


Middle of the Night

by kelsanity



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bathroom Sex, Brief KuroYaku, Canon Compliant, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Everyone Is Gay, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Getting Together, Happy couples, I'm being serious about the slow burn, Interrupted Sex, Intervention, KuroKen - Freeform, Kuroo is a hoe, Kuroo makes me want to bang my head against a wall sometimes, Kuroo wanting to fix it all, M/M, Oblivious Kuroo Tetsurou, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, Past Relationships, Phone Sex, Picking up in a bar, Piercings, Pining, Post-Canon, Post-Chapter 369, Protective Akaashi Keiji, Rating has changed, Romantic Angst, Roommates, Semi-Public Sex, Senior Year at Uni, Service Kink, Side Ships, Sloppy Makeouts, Slow Burn, Some volleyball is played, Unrequited Love, Videogame References, Working things out, don't blow this Kuroo, fuck buddies, iwaoi - Freeform, jealous Kuroo, like really slow burn, love intervention, minor kenhina, past Kurotsukki, protective friends, serious conversations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2020-02-16 18:23:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 99,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18696835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelsanity/pseuds/kelsanity
Summary: “'Sulking will not fix the situation,' Akaashi directed to both of them.Kuroo had to agree with Akaashi’s statement. No matter what it was - whether it be recruiter or your best friend not responding to your damn text messages - sulking would most definitely not fix the situation. But neither would persistent nagging. Both of those options would make it worse, and Kuroo was determined that there was no middle ground except to simply appear in person and force an answer out of them."...It's the start of his final year at university. Big opportunities are around the corner, and since coming back from the break, nothing has quite seemed the same. Kuroo needs to wake up and realize what it is he wants.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I've been working on this fic for about a year now, and I am finally ready to begin sharing it with all of you.
> 
> I will preface that this work is...a lot, so if you're looking for a good slow burn, I have you covered! As a multishipper, I love all of Kuroo's pairings, but KuroKen definitely hits a soft spot in my heart. You will notice some fave Kuroo pairings scattered throughout this work, but remember that this is a KUROKEN fic at the end of the day. You'll also notice some shameless plugging of other ships, which I will try to contain to the background but I can't make any promises lol

The start of the Fall semester was still rather warm with the faintest inkling of the cooler weather around the corner. A breeze would creep in through an open window and remind someone that they should have dressed in layers. It could easily confuse anyone who was eager for the impending cold or distracted with chemical equations that were going to be on an upcoming test. Yes, the weather was a fickle thing to predict and definitely added to whatever stress someone was going through.

 

< _It’s too hot. Isn’t it supposed to be October?_

 

The walk from the train station to the apartment building was about ten minutes. Walking from the main science building to the train station was another ten minutes. And the train ride between both destinations was, yes, ten minutes - fifteen if the first train was overcrowded, and in Tokyo, the train was usually always overcrowded. This meant spending an hour traveling back and forth between home, school, and then back to home. That was only if he had everything he needed for the whole day: books, homework, clean clothes, practice clothes, gear, and the list could go on. So add the weight to the travel and - 

Well, it was too hot to be October.

When it was this warm, the mind could wander, and before he knew it, he had walked all the way back to his building from the station without realizing. Living on the fifth floor had its ups and downs - pro: great view, no upstairs neighbors; con: the elevator easily got busted. Since the elevator was under repairs again, he had to walk up the flights of stairs to get to his apartment, but at least it was an addition to his workout routine.

 

< _Have you eaten yet?_

 

He opened the door to his shared flat and entered, taking off his shoes at the front before stepping up into the entryway. The window in the hall was open, causing him to shiver - momentarily caught off guard by the light breeze - before going to the hall closet and hanging his useless coat up. 

Passing the kitchen, his stomach rumbled in thought of having something to eat soon, but he would wait just a bit longer. Besides, he would rather go for takeout rather than have to cook something, and from the sound of silence throughout the apartment, no one else was around to do the cooking. He was lazy when it came to cooking for himself. It was far easier to convince someone else to do the work for him, especially with his one roommate - though his cooking skills weren’t exactly first class.

Heaving a sigh, the university student stretched his arms above his perfectly styled bedhead and made his way to his bedroom. He had to cut through the living room as his door led to the room in the corner of the apartment - not the first door as that led to the happy couple’s private domain - but the second door that was sometimes far too close to that first door. Entering his room, he finally felt the exhaustion from the morning’s classes take over.

Kuroo Tetsurou - fourth year university student - had built up a steady routine within his college career of going to class, going to work, and going to practice. When he did have free time, he could be found at any bar, club, or party to blow off stress and frustrations that came with his final year. Before he knew it, here he was in October. Time was flying by way too fast.

From the walk over, Kuroo had felt his undershirt cling to him, and standing in his room now, he just had to remove the sweaty clothing. Tossing the shirt to his hamper by the door, he made a face at the growing pile of dirty laundry. He hated doing laundry. It was boring and time consuming, and his one roommate always made fun of him for forgetting to fold his clothes in time which meant he mostly walked around in wrinkled shirts. Thankfully he could coast off his natural good looks to sway others’ opinions on his poor laundry skills….at least, almost everybody.

“Shittykawa,” Kuroo muttered his roommate’s moniker to his hamper.

He flopped onto his twin sized bed in only his boxers. His cellphone was in his hand even after stripping and survived the flop. Laying on his back, he checked his email, scrolled through his newsfeed, and double checked any missed text messages, but there was nothing new. 

No responses.

“Kenma,” Kuroo sighed, rolling onto his side and facing the wall, “why aren’t you answering?” 

He flicked through his messages once more, huffing as a few more minutes counted down. Yawning, he hadn’t quite noticed himself slip into a light unconsciousness - not quite sleeping but definitely not awake.

“Oh man! Was it just me or was class tough today?”

Someone was home, and though they were loud, Kuroo didn’t have the energy to open his eyes. 

“It was just you, Kou.”

A second voice chimed in, but from Kuroo’s room, the voice was clearly much quieter than the first. That meant Bo and Akaashi were here. Absently, he wondered if they knew he was home too or if they would just continue on unabashedly. 

“But A~kaa~shi~” Bokuto whined from the living room, flopping down onto the couch from the sound of the _thud_ that reached even past Kuroo’s door. “He just kept going on and on and on! And his voice was just so _dull_ ….How was anyone supposed to follow that?”

“Not everyone can be as excitable as you, Kou, when it comes to product placement. Sometimes you have to compromise enthusiasm with experience.”

“But you can be enthusiastically experienced!”

“Only you, Kou.” Akaashi’s quiet exasperation reached Kuroo’s ears.

Something about Akaashi’s tone of voice reminded Kuroo of his own best friend. The interaction between Bo and his boyfriend would have been similar to himself and Kenma - had the latter answered any of his earlier messages. One was hot-headed and rash while the other remained calm and collected. They balanced each other out, which was probably why Kuroo liked Akaashi for Bokuto. The man could use someone opposite of him to keep himself in check.

 

< _Don’t forget to eat today._

 

Yeah, having someone keep track of you was great. They would send reminders throughout the day or start mindless conversations whenever it was needed. Kuroo especially liked when that person would come over, and they could spend the day just being lazy - barely moving around unless they ultimately had to. Oikawa had told him that those were all the duties of a significant other, but that didn’t exactly sound right to Kuroo. All he was describing was -

 

> _I won’t._

 

Kuroo sat up in his bed as his phone went off. That text tone didn’t belong to an email or any other notification. He looked down at the message and smiled softly to himself. Knowing Kenma was going to eat definitely made him feel better. He hated finding out Kenma went a whole day without eating just because he “forgot” he was hungry or was too lazy to make something.

 

< _Good!_ (＾▽＾)

 

That was at least better. Kuroo had been starting to get worried. If Kenma hadn’t answered him, he probably would have gone over to check on him.

“Well, now that that’s settled,” he stretched his arms over his head, arching his back, “I guess I should go crash their party~”

Rolling out of bed, putting fresh clothes on, and doing a once-over in his floor length mirror, Kuroo exited his bedroom. He half expected Bo to be all over Akaashi - especially because it had gotten so quiet rather quickly - but alas Akaashi still held tolerance and virtue when it came to “public” spaces.

Upon hearing Kuroo’s door open, Bo whipped his head up and grinned at his roommate. “What are you doing here?” He asked eagerly as if looking for a distraction from the homework already splayed out on the coffee table. Bo sat on the floor with the coffee table pulled up to his chest and his back flat against the couch where Akaashi sat rather delicately with his textbook perched on his cross-legged lap. “Thought you were still on campus!”

“What? Trying to sneak in some _alone time~_?” Kuroo teased him, leaning against his door frame.

Akaashi tilted his head ever so slightly to peer at Kuroo with his gunmetal blue eyes. “Whatever do you mean, _Kuroo-san_?” His voice was smooth like velvet, but underneath the calm tone, there was an underlying threat. 

What exactly was that threat? 

Well, Kuroo never challenged it - probably because his instincts kept him at bay. Sometimes he wondered just exactly how Bokuto could be so carefree around his boyfriend when everything about Akaashi told Kuroo to remain on his toes.

“Oh nothing~” Kuroo hummed to himself, playing off the innocent facade of Akaashi’s question. Yup, he wasn’t playing into _that_. “You guys hungry? Haven’t eaten all day,” he groaned as his stomach emphasized his point.

“We ate before coming here.” Akaashi told him as his eyes returned to his textbook, dissipating all cautious tension between him and Kuroo. “Thank you for offering.”

“Alright, leftovers it is then,” Kuroo shrugged and headed past the pair towards the kitchen. He knew there was some takeout from the previous night with his name written on it.

As Kuroo dully focused on heating up the container of fried rice, he heard an exasperated sigh from just beyond the counter. It had only been a few minutes and already Bo was clearly bored. He knew his roommate had difficulties focusing on more menial tasks, but even this mental checkout was a new record for him. It was a good thing the volleyball ace had a partner like Akaashi, though, because where one was always ready to go and eager, the other was diligently patient and observant. They were a good balance.

Not everyone was as lucky as Bokuto and Akaashi.

 

< _Ugh, gotta study with the love birds. Save me!_ (┳Д┳)

 

Pocketing his phone and picking up his lunch from the counter, Kuroo made his way over to the living room and plopped down on the couch beside Akaashi. He leaned on the armrest and blew on his food before taking a bite.

Bo threw his head back onto the couch cushion and groaned in frustration. “Ah-kaaaa-shii~” He whined up at his boyfriend, sticking his bottom lip out into a petulant pout.

“I’ve already explained the concept to you three times, Kou,” the former setter answered, turning the page in his own textbook. “I cannot keep repeating myself, and besides,” he carefully glanced down and burned his intense gaze into the waiting pair of eyes, “you are very _capable_.”

Bo stared back at him, mouth open and ready to counter whatever Akaashi was going to tell him, and quickly shut his mouth. Boyfriend or not - if you got a call out like _that_ from Akaashi Keiji of all people, you just had no choice but to accept it.

“Well...maybe I just like listening to you explain it…” He finally mumbled out as he leaned closer to the coffee table, taking interest in his studies again.

Kuroo laughed as he watched the exchange.

Akaashi cast his eyes to Kuroo beside him, easily quieting his laughter with a single look.

Kuroo simply shook his head as he killed his chuckles, though his smirk never left his features. Yeah, Akaashi could be intimidating but not as much as others. “Such a scary look,” he waved Akaashi’s gaze away with his free hand. “You two are _so_ not subtle. Doesn’t bother me though~ Only makes me more interested~” He winked at the younger man.

“Told you, Keiji!” 

Shouting his cryptic confirmation, Bokuto had twisted around on the floor to look up at the both of them. He flashed a wide grin, tilting his head to the side and turning that smile lopsided.

Akaashi lightly blushed at his boyfriend before turning his eyes away.

Yup, definitely interested -

“Oi, Kuroo!” Bo moved his active attention to his best bro.

Kuroo cocked an eyebrow in response, taking another bite of his lunch. Bo’s ability to rapidly switch topics had become so ingrained that Kuroo stopped being surprised years ago. It was best to just roll with whatever the other man wanted to talk about.

“Heard anything about the recruiter?” Bo’s golden irises were thinned out by his blown pupils - the anticipation of his best friend’s answer nearly killing him.

Kuroo’s eye twitched. As much as he wanted to say “yeah, man, I have,” he couldn’t. There was no answer to receive which meant none to give either. An answer-less limbo. 

It sucked.

“Koutarou,” it was Akaashi’s voice that broke the stagnant excitement before Kuroo could respond. He sounded exasperated as if he was about to answer a question asked a thousand times. 

He hadn’t. No one had. But it was clear everyone wanted to ask the same thing.

“It’s okay, Akaashi,” Kuroo soothed, letting his voice dip just a bit. Honey. He could hear his own words gently spilling out as he calmly answered. “Nah, man….Haven’t heard anything really. But that’s how these things are. Recruiters like to make you wait as long as possible until you’re about to practically jizz in your pants,” he laughed.

Bo looked mildly defeated as he deflated and sighed. “Yeah, I guess so….but if you haven’t heard anything….then I guess things are just taking time….”

“Me? What makes you think that?” The middle blocker shifted in his seat, cocking his head to the side with interest.

“If anyone would hear back from the recruiter first, it would definitely be you, bro.”

How could Bo say things like this with such a serious face? The ace and captain of their first string team sat on their apartment floor - head back on the cushions and legs spread wide underneath their coffee table - with a ho-hum expression that challenged anyone to say otherwise. Goofy, yes, but could Kuroo question his statement?

Also yes. 

Yes he could.

“Dude, thanks for thinking that much of me, but seriously?” Kuroo had to restrain a chuckle, deciding to shake his head instead. “Couldn’t be more wrong. Besides, that recruiter wasn’t anyone big time,” he brushed it off. “Nah, the ones to worry about are coming up. Now _those_ are the people who give a shit and will even give the courtesy of flat-out rejecting you. They wouldn’t make you wait more than a week if they truly wanted you.”

Bo’s eyes looked up at him again - more golden than pupil. “Really….?”

“Really.”

“Okay….”

“So don’t get too down, okay? More fish in the sea,” Kuroo waved his hand in the air, “or so they say.”

Bokuto simply nodded, now opting to stare down at his homework as if it offended him.

A moment of silence passed before Akaashi finally intervened into the conversation. “There is never a missed opportunity, Kou. I told you Tetsurou would be in the same position.”

“I know….but it’s still frustrating when you don’t even hear back from them.” Bo huffed, crossing his arms over his chest now. His eyes burned into his textbook almost as if he wanted it to catch fire.

“Tell me about it,” Kuroo nodded in agreement. “A simple phone call or even an email. Not asking for much, ya know? Just want to know yes or no, but do we get that?”

“No,” Bo huffed in added frustration.

“Exactly.”

“Sulking will not fix the situation,” Akaashi directed to both of them.

“I knooow,” Bo whined and his head fell forward onto the coffee table, planting firmly into the binding of his textbook.

Kuroo had to agree with Akaashi’s statement. No matter what it was - whether it be recruiter or your best friend not responding to your damn text messages - sulking would most definitely not fix the situation. But neither would persistent nagging. Both of those options would make it worse, and Kuroo was determined that there was no middle ground except to simply appear in person and force an answer out of them.

The piercing gunmetal gaze cut through Kuroo’s trained peripheral and caught his attention. He blinked three times as he stared at those calculating eyes, gauging what was on the other’s mind. When it came to Akaashi, he always had to judge what he was about to say. 

Again, fear factored into this conscious decision but not solely for the former setter. Instead, the reasoning lay behind the information that could be redirected to someone more dangerous. Someone who could really use the things he said against him.

A smirk began to ease its way onto his features. Natural. Comforting. It could hide many intentions as it had been ingrained to do over the many years Kuroo had put it on. “Stare any longer and you might end up blind, Akaashi~” He teased him.

The other’s deadpan expression was probably just as natural as Kuroo’s own smirk. “I’m already blind, Tetsurou.”

Kuroo put a hand over his heart and gasped dramatically. “You wound me~ Not you too,” he stretched himself over the armrest.

“Too?” Akaashi raised his eyebrow at the slight mention. He always picked up the slip-of-the-tongue words.

Kuroo had to keep up his facade. “Of course! Don’t think you are the only one to have left a scar on me~”

Bo snorted from the coffee table.

“But that’s fine,” Kuroo continued to carry on as he righted himself on the couch and looked at the pretty setter again, “I have ways of healing. Go be merry! Rejoice!”

Akaashi rolled his eyes as Kuroo spiraled out of control - going back to the textbook in his lap.

A little swell of pride rolled around in Kuroo’s chest as he managed to throw Akaashi off of him. It was a small victory, but he would take it. Gladly. Winning against Akaashi in anything was enough to write home about.

“Besides,” Kuroo began without thinking, “it’s not like you’re ignoring my texts or anything. Not much damage has been done, dear Akaashi~”

And as quickly as he won against him, the victory was now easily lost. Akaashi raised only his eyes to look at Kuroo carefully. That knowing gaze pierced Kuroo like ice, causing him to shiver. “Tetsurou, this was a verbal conversation. That is oddly….specific.”

Dammit.

“ _You’re_ not, I mean,” Kuroo fumbled to find the right words and let out an exasperated sigh, “just forget I said anything. Oh hey, I need more soy sauce -”

“Dude,” Bo threw his head back to look at Kuroo again, blinking slowly at him, “what’s up?”

And now the owl was using a dangerous tone. Bokuto’s “dangerous tone” wasn’t like Akaashi’s, Oikawa’s, Suga’s, or anyone else’s for that matter. It wasn’t judgemental or accusing. In fact, it was just the opposite. Bokuto’s “dangerous tone” was just that because it was so open and inviting and could make anyone want to spill their guts on the spot. He’d never forget the first time Bo used that tone on Oikawa and -

“Kuroo?”

Sighing, Kuroo ran a hand over his face and threw his head back against the couch. It was best not to make eye contact with Bo. “Nothing’s up, really….Just, well, Kenma….hasn’t been responding to my texts lately. Kinda feels like he’s been avoiding me….”

A glance. 

Sometimes that was all it took to convey a thought between two people who had known each other for a long, long time. With Akaashi and Bokuto, they could share that same glance in a number of different situations - and to Kuroo, he knew that meant something significant.

“Kenma is not avoiding you, Tetsu,” Akaashi finally spoke on behalf of his roommate. “This is the start of the new semester, and you know how long it takes for him to adjust to a schedule. I am sure the miscommunication is just that.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Bo eagerly chimed in, standing up now as he stretched his arms above his head. He bent backwards just a bit to crack at the lower vertebrae which seemed to have locked in place. “You know Kenma better than anyone! He’s just playing a new game or watching some documentary again.” He laughed it off, swiping the air for exaggeration. 

Nodding, Kuroo agreed halfheartedly. Kenma was known for losing himself in a new video game or a riveting documentary. Maybe he was just reading in too much of the situation?

Bo grinned as Kuroo nodded, adding, “And there’s no need to worry either! ‘Cause you know he’s got Akaashi and Lev and Hinata to look out for him! He’s always having too much fun with Hinata, right Akaashi?”

Kuroo looked up at the mention of the orange-haired shrimp - “shrimp” sticking as his nickname because even though he grew a little bit taller over the years, he was still one of the smallest on his team. Something had nagged in the back of his head. It wasn’t quite vocal with what bothered him, but there was definitely this feeling as he thought about Hinata and Kenma being alone….

“Koutarou,” Akaashi’s voice was slow, drawing out each syllable of Bokuto’s name in his own warning tone. He sighed and drew his eyes to Kuroo who had stiffened slightly beside him on the sofa. “What _Bokuto-san_ -”

“Hey!”

“What Bokuto-san is trying to say,” he paused and gently reached out to touch Kuroo’s shoulder, “is that Kenma will be alright. Just wait a tad longer for him to adjust to the semester.”

“It’s whatever,” Kuroo shrugged Akaashi’s hand away and stabbed into his rice again. “Kenma will always be Kenma. That’s never changed.” 

He agreed with their statements, knowing that it probably was just that. His best friend since childhood had never outgrown his love of video games or his insomnia, and reminding himself of that did ease the feeling just slightly. He was just going to have to let him run his course….despite this nagging in his gut.

University had always been like a second chance at life. Well, a new life. But despite the newness of the “adult” world, there had always been a constant to keep him grounded. It wasn’t until recently that things really began to change. Lost control? That was probably more like it. And where Kuroo could be flexible with the turbulence around him, the same couldn’t be said about his constant. He was trying to be understanding - really, he was! - but patience was not his strong suit outside of a volleyball match.

Kenma was the patient one. Ever since they were younger, he had easily dealt with Kuroo’s erratic behavior and ever-changing mind. He probably didn’t know what he was in for when he became friends with Kuroo, but he still stuck around. Kuroo just needed to have faith in their friendship and let his best friend come around. After all, third year at university was _hard_. For anybody. He could definitely understand academic struggle, but that didn’t mean he _liked_ this as an answer. In fact, he probably wouldn’t like any answer unless Kenma told him directly.

He glanced at his phone, now resting on the arm of the couch. 

No new messages.

“Bokuto-san, you haven’t touched your textbook.”

“Akaashi,” Bo’s voice dipped into a whine, “you’re not gonna keep calling me that now, are you?”

“We’ll see.”

“A-kaaaaaaaa-shiiiiiii~”

A smile touched Kuroo’s lips as he put his bowl down on the floor. He stretched his arms above his head and arched his back, fully extending his long body. “You know, _Bokuto-san_ , you should listen to your boo~”

“Not you too….!” Bo continued to whine.

“Be a good boy and you might be rewarded,” Kuroo flashed a wink in Akaashi’s direction, “although punishments can be just as fun~”

To anyone else, it would have looked as if Akaashi was staring at Kuroo with a bored, impassive expression. But Kuroo knew better. He could pick up the intensity of the glare. Another word and Kuroo Tetsurou would be a dead man.

So instead, he got to his feet in one fluid motion and crossed the room to reach his bedroom. Kuroo had time before needing to head back to campus. Drowning in equations didn’t seem so bad - at least compared to other things.

When he returned to the living room with his laptop, all earlier tension had dissipated. Akaashi didn’t keep grudges - at least not to Kuroo’s knowledge - so he knew it was okay to join his friends in their study session. 

Kuroo noticed a flashing light coming from his phone. The soft blue pulse indicated a new message:

 

> _It sucks to be you_

 

He wrinkled his nose but was amused all the same by the response. It was just so Kenma with how acute his timing seemed to be. He could send him multiple messages a day, but it only took one response to sum it all up. Despite knowing he referenced the previous text, Kuroo couldn’t help but to think this was a separate comment altogether. Sometimes he thought it was more on karma’s part than Kenma’s that tested him.

 

< _You still love me anyways_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Homework, tests, and recruiters - oh my!
> 
> I love BokuAka~ And I especially love Akaashi~ He definitely provides that tough love approach with his friends, so it'll be wise to stay on his good side, Kuroo! And Bo is just a lovable character who's trying to lookout for his best bro.
> 
> Next time, I'll introduce another roommate and an update from Kenma~
> 
> Hope you guys liked this first chapter! I haven't written a fic since my days on FF.net, and hoo boy, were those the days. I'd really love some feedback whether it's kudos or comments. Let me know what y'all think and I'll try to keep to a regular posting schedule!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Plenty to worry about,” Kuroo admitted, nodding as he gestured to his scattered books, notes, and open laptop. “Classes, TA work, notes - hell, even practice is starting to wear on me and it’s only the start of the semester,” he sighed and mirrored Oikawa by leaning on the table now._
> 
> _“I see,” Oikawa narrowed his eyes just slightly, but it was enough to see past the bullshit. “So….all of that just now on the phone was also because of school?”_
> 
> _Double fuck._

Most students preferred to study in silence, seeking shelter at a library or holding themselves up in their bedroom with noise cancelling headphones to shield the outside world. The keyword here was _most_. And as everyone knew, Kuroo wasn’t like most students. Not in the least. Instead of dead silence and zero social interactions, he sought out his own sanctuary - which so happened to be one of the most popular diners in the district.

He had been going there well before he started attending university, but his appearance at the “world-class” establishment had started long ago. There was nothing like the sound of a heavy, bell-tipped door signalling the comings and goings of patrons. The smell of fried meats and thick broths was just as comforting as the lack of disinfectant and suffocating heat. It was the quick fix eatery that every university student stopped at to take something home, though not many lingered for an entire meal. Only those raised in the area could truly appreciate the comfort.

Spread out across the table was all of Kuroo’s studying necessities. He had his laptop - plugged into the wall underneath the table - his notes scattered between half eaten dishes of fried food (something he shouldn’t have really been eating during his active volleyball season), and his long legs were able to stretch out on the seat across from him. Having a booth to himself really was living in the lap of luxury.

Turning his attention to the window, Kuroo could see that the night was already upon him. The streetlights and storefronts were all lit up for their next stage. People passed by while some stopped inside. Everyone seemed to have something to do - typical of a city. And though he had things to do himself, Kuroo couldn’t help but to sit and count the cracks in the sidewalk or attempt to lock eyes with a stranger to get their attention - not that he wanted anyone’s particular attention, but having someone stare back could open up an unexpected encounter. 

It certainly would be more entertaining than the clutter stretched out before him.

Kuroo sighed after a few more ticks and lazily dragged his eyes from the outside world to the phone laying face up next to a plate of soggy, cold fries. He made a face at the food and picked up the phone. He took a picture of the display in front of him, ready to post to every social media account in his arsenal, but he refrained himself. Had he sunken that low that he was willing to blast himself on social media for having nothing better to do? 

The teasing would be entertaining at least….

Instead, he scrolled over to his messages. Emails for group projects, notes from another classmate, and a continuous ad for penis augmentation - ah yes, the _daily_ spam. The beginning of the semester was always such a drastic change as everyone tried to buckle down and attempted to be good students, even though they knew they would slip back into old habits. Parties. Drinking. Hook ups. Yeah, things would return to normal soon, but for now, Kuroo was going to suffocate in boring purgatory.

_“And there’s no need to worry either!”_

Bokuto’s voice echoed momentarily from earlier that day. 

Yeah, there was no need to worry. It was just an adjustment period. This had been a rather tumultuous break and now everything was going to seem rather dull in comparison. Sometimes Kuroo had to agree with Bo. There was nothing to worry about. Nothing at -

_“He’s always having too much fun with Hinata, right Akaashi?”_

Right. 

Nothing to worry about.

Kuroo sat up in his booth, taking his legs off the seat opposite of him, and leaned forward. He snatched his phone up from the table and stared at the blackened screen. No messages. Nothing in hours from Kenma, and though he could think of multiple logical reasons as to why, his brain was definitely becoming more and more irrational.

What if he didn’t eat? What if he hadn’t eaten in so long that he collapsed? And what if that collapse happened while he was going down the stairs? Sure, Kenma always used the elevator, but what if -

“This is ridiculous,” Kuroo huffed aloud before unlocking his phone and opened up his video chat. Kenma hated phone calls, but Facetime was deemed acceptable….mostly.

His knee bounced up and down anxiously as he listened to the annoying dings of his phone trying to connect to the other line. It also didn’t help that his service wasn’t exactly great. But if Kenma picked up and the call dropped, Kuroo could take that. It would be a sign of life. He just needed that reassurance that Kenma hadn’t collapsed….

“Hello?”

Finally! 

It connected….though it wasn’t with Kenma. Fair complexion, feather-light bone structure, bright brown eyes, and wild sunburnt hair. Yeah, he should’ve known he wasn’t lucky enough to catch his best friend.

“Yo, Chibi-chan,” Kuroo greeted Hinata, letting his masking smile stretch across his features, “where’s Kenma?”

“Kuroo!” Hinata called back enthusiastically, his face immediately lighting up. It wasn’t hard to get the shrimp excited. 

As if clicking the question back into his brain, Hinata cocked his head to the side before flipping the camera around on the phone. On the couch, curled up into the tightest ball of limbs and splayed out hair, was Kenma. 

He always made himself look smaller as he slept - as if not wanting to be seen. Kuroo knew that it just happened because of a lifetime’s worth of sleeping in cluttered spaces. He had a blanket draped over him - most likely done by Hinata when he came back from class. No one had the heart to wake the sleeping beauty whenever he was caught. 

Kenma had a tendency of easily falling asleep anywhere and almost at any time. Kuroo was just thankful it had been on the couch and not down a flight of stairs. 

The camera view was quickly turned back around so that Hinata’s face took over the entire screen again.

Kuroo was a bit disappointed.

“Ah, sleeping,” he addressed and nodded in understanding. “Well, don’t wake him. Just wanted to call….” 

Trying to sound neutral, Kuroo didn’t want to make Hinata think anything was wrong. Because even though he and Kenma had been best friends since childhood, it was still rare and a bit concerning when had to call.

“Did you need anything? I could probably help!” Hinata offered just as cheerily as ever, attempting to keep his voice to a whisper.

“No….not really….” Kuroo looked past Hinata to see Kenma in the background once more. Seeing him asleep always made Kuroo a bit more protective of the younger man - an instinct he often had to suppress. “Unfortunately, it still remains my own problem~”

Hinata cocked his head to the side, blinking.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, Chibi-chan. I’ll just….talk with him later,” Kuroo held up his free hand and saluted the shrimp before hanging up the call.

He glared at his darkened phone as if it had just bitten him. 

Kuroo definitely didn’t want to have a conversation with Hinata Shoyou - not that there was anything wrong with the boy, er, young man. But there was definitely _something_ that was bothering him and it tied in with the enthusiastic, sunshine child. He felt acid in the pit of his stomach, and it could have been caused by all the junk food he’d eaten in one sitting….but that probably wasn’t it, considering he had a self-proclaimed “iron gut.”

And if Kuroo was struggling earlier to complete his assignments, now was definitely not any better. In fact, he just had this strong urge to go running. He could lose himself on a nice long, challenging run - forget everything that had been clouding his mind lately. That momentary blackout of reality sounded welcoming.

Or he could go drinking.

Alcohol was just as good at making him forget things as doing something active, and since he’d eaten so much, maybe a run wasn’t such a good idea. Drinking on the other hand, now that didn’t sound half bad….but it wasn’t Thursday. 

Thursday was usually his night of the week to wreck havoc downtown - forget his troubles. He wasn’t sure if he could last another couple of days….

“My, my, such a devastatingly sad face~”

Kuroo snapped his head up at that voice. It was meant to be empathetic and sweet, but it dripped with scheming interest. These last four years especially have taught him how to notice the difference between true sympathy and false concern - thanks to a new addition to his circle of friends. 

Hell, he’d even used some of the same tactics himself.

Sitting across from him in his booth was none other than that addition to his inner circle, Oikawa Tooru - his roommate since freshman year. He was as put together as usual with his hair coiffed just “perfectly,” not a speck of lint on his pressed clothes, and a pair of delicately square framed glasses clinging to the bridge of his nose. What a nerd. And as usual, Oikawa had caught Kuroo off guard, but he wasn’t ever going to admit it.

Kuroo easily slipped into his own familiar smirk and stretched back on his side of his booth. “Only sad because _someone_ caused the establishment to drop in temperature~”

Oikawa hummed, not fazed, and simply let his chin fall into the palms of his hands - staring back at Kuroo with an interested gleam in his eye. “Mmmm~ I like it colder~”

“That’s definitely bullshit.” Kuroo called out. “You always whine about the cold. _‘Ah, I need more sweaters~ Wah, who turned the heater down~? Oh, Iwa-chan, keep me warm with your big -’_ ”

Kuroo’s spot-on impersonation was cut off by a slew of soggy fries, though that only fueled his roaring laughter even more. Oikawa was so easy to tease.

“I do _not_ sound like that,” he huffed, crossing his arms and puffing his cheeks out as he leaned back on his side of the booth.

Wiping a tear, Kuroo smirked at him, “Oh, should I record it for you~? Didn’t know you were into that~”

Quickly, another barrage of cold, soggy fries was flung towards him - though Kuroo was able to dodge most of them this time.

“Well, it seems you are perfectly fine. Don’t know why I decided to bother you.” Oikawa petulantly turned his face away, sticking his nose up in the air.

“Of course I’m perfectly fine. Why? Was someone worried about me~?” Kuroo purred in his honey-like voice. “I feel so honored, your majesty~” 

It came so naturally and gave some semblance of normalcy that he could easily keep this up all night for that welcomed distraction. Who knew Oikawa would come to the rescue?

Oikawa turned his gaze back to his roommate, returning to his more perched position with his chin resting on the palm of his hand. His eyes were always quick to change - something Kuroo had noticed since their first year together. Whenever there was something bothering him, it was pretty obvious to spot with the way he would look at someone. How anyone could ever miss that easy tell, well, it would always be baffling.

“There is nothing to worry about?” His tone was flat - all earlier teasing and amusement gone in an instant. Yup, Oikawa had a pretty dangerous tone too.

Repressing the physical shiver that was trying to run up his spine, Kuroo waved off Oikawa’s question and looked away. Backing down was just admitting there was a problem. Quickly, he tried to remake eye contact, but there was already a smug glint in the Grand King’s eye.

Fuck.

“Plenty to worry about,” Kuroo admitted, nodding as he gestured to his scattered books, notes, and open laptop. “Classes, TA work, notes - hell, even practice is starting to wear on me and it’s only the start of the semester,” he sighed and mirrored Oikawa by leaning on the table now.

“I see,” Oikawa narrowed his eyes just slightly, but it was enough to see past the bullshit. “So….all of that just now on the phone was also because of school?”

Double fuck.

“Wait….how long have you been sitting here?” Kuroo blinked, realizing just how much he had been distracted.

“Long enough~”

Wonderful. 

Although….this could work in Kuroo’s favor. Oikawa was good at reading people after all - knowing every little minute detail about all of the players on their team to make sure they all received the kinds of sets that they liked. Hell, he even used those supernatural skills on his friends when it came to birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, good days, bad days - you name it! He knew things about those close to him before they themselves knew. 

A thought struck him. 

What if Oikawa really _could_ read his mind, and tell him what was wrong? A talent like that could solve everything without Kuroo having to suffer in “what if” scenarios. Of course, it would only add to Oikawa’s sci-fi super ego, but there had been times where it certainly felt as if that ability existed outside of manga and comic books. That telepathic sixth sense of his would certainly come in handy ri -

“Tetsurou! Oi, are you ignoring me on purpose?”

Blinking, Kuroo returned to the moment and focused back on Oikawa in front of him. “Huh?”

“Have you not heard a single thing I’ve been saying?” Oikawa puffed his cheeks out.

“Not a word.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible sometimes!” He threw his hands up in exasperation and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And here I was trying to get something off my chest for once.”

Kuroo cocked a dubious eyebrow at that. Oikawa was always venting.

“What? Haven’t been able to see your _man_ lately~?” Kuroo teased him, flashing a knowing grin across the table.

“That’s exactly it!”

“Wait, shit, what? Really?” Kuroo shook his head in disbelief. “You two share a bed. What do you mean you haven’t seen him?”

“It’s awful, Tetsu-chan~” Oikawa pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and leaned back in the booth, sighing dramatically as his tone dipped. “He’s always out and barely answers his phone. Between school, work, and volleyball, he just doesn’t have time for me. He comes home all exhausted and crashes face first into his pillow. I haven’t seen my Iwa-chan for weeks. Weeks!”

Kuroo rolled his eyes and reached for his now flat soda. “Sounds serious.”

“It is! I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” he clutched his chest, still as melodramatic as always. “I think I’ll die at this rate!”

“Then break-up,” Kuroo shrugged a simple solution.

Oikawa gasped and glared at him. “How _dare_ you suggest such a cruel and inhumane death upon Iwa-chan. If I broke up with him, it would be the death of him. His poor, little heart won’t be able to handle such a drastic lifestyle change.”

“Ah, you’re right,” Kuroo nodded, “Iwa would probably die by the third celebration party.”

Oikawa reached for the remaining fries, but Kuroo knew what he would aim for. He grabbed the basket before any food could be thrown. Shooting his roommate a teasing smirk and a wink, he sat back on his side of the booth.

“Mean!” 

“What are you? Four?” Kuroo rolled his eyes, attempting to suppress his chuckles.

“Tetsu is a mean, cold-hearted friend!” Oikawa stuck his tongue out at him.

That statement stung a bit. 

“Oi, Shittykawa -”

“Mean!”

“Tooru,” Kuroo readjusted the atmosphere, taking in a breath and holding it for a few seconds. He had his own tricks at commanding tension. “I need to talk to someone -”

“Then go talk to Kenma.” Oikawa huffed. It was clear that he had calmed down, but he was being stubborn about keeping his hurt visible on his sleeve. “He’s well more seasoned than anyone else to talk about _your_ problems.”

“That’s...the thing...I don’t think I can talk to Kenma about this.” Kuroo looked away, not quite sure where to take this conversation. 

Like Oikawa said, Kuroo had always taken his problems to Kenma. It was strange, uncharted territory going to someone else as his sole advisor.

But he had been needing to talk to _someone_ about the things on his mind - the recent thoughts that played on repeat, but the timing was never quite right. Even now, he didn’t feel quite able to express everything properly.

Oikawa watched him carefully, taking in the little gestures and nuances that Kuroo subconsciously did. Reading body language also came comfortably to him, and he could definitely see that there was something deeply rooted in his friend. Kuroo never could express himself as honestly as he claimed.

“I’m not going to listen.”

Kuroo looked up, bewildered. “What?”

“I’m not repeating myself, but if you can’t talk to Kenma, then I certainly cannot be your shoulder to cry on,” he stated simply. “No one can.”

Kuroo made a frustratingly confused expression. He was definitely troubled by this. _Oikawa_ of all people didn’t want to listen? Not saying that Oikawa Tooru was a mother-hen-type who would want to try and fix the problem - _cough, Suga, cough_ \- but when he did step in, the leverage he would have over that somebody was enormous.

It was essentially selling your soul to Satan himself.

“What the hell, Oikawa?” He clenched his fist as he glared across the table. “You don’t -”

Oikawa held up his index finger as a smirk came across his features. “I said I wasn’t going to listen not that I wouldn’t help. Give me your phone.” He held his hand out for the device.

Kuroo narrowed his eyes. He was skeptical of what this ace setter was about to do with such a precious piece of his life….but he had trusted him this far into their friendship. 

He slid the phone across the table for Oikawa to take.

Almost too eagerly, Oikawa licked his lips and unlocked Kuroo’s phone. He had known the passcode for ages now, and it wasn’t like Kuroo was one to hide anything about himself. He pulled out his own phone now, and for a few minutes, Kuroo waited patiently as Oikawa typed something into both devices.

“What are….?” Kuroo tilted his head as if that would give him a better angle to see what Oikawa was doing.

“Shhh,” he shushed him before a light ding came from Kuroo’s phone. Oikawa lifted his head and grinned at his roommate before handing over the device to its owner. “All set~”

“And….what’s all set?”

“Your social life for the rest of the semester~”

Kuroo gave him a deadpan expression. 

He didn’t need Oikawa’s help with _that_. He wasn’t that pathetic he couldn’t make those arrangements himself. “I don’t know, Oikawa. Your taste in parties isn’t exactly the same as mine, especially with you being domesticated and all~”

“Excuse you,” Oikawa scoffed back, “I’ll have you know I have fantastic taste in parties. My name can get you in at any place - that’s how well-known I am. Thank you very much.”

“Wow, such a wild animal you are~” 

“Shut it.” He ran a hand through his hair before sliding out of the booth. “I am doing you a favor here, Tetsu. I’m sure it’s been a while since you’ve let loose, so it’s time to get off the bench and back in the game.”

Kuroo blinked. “Was that a sports reference?”

“Fuck off, stupid Tetsu! Take my help or leave it.” Oikawa stuck his tongue out before flipping him off to make his exit. Ah yes, such a graceful way to leave their conversation.

Kuroo couldn’t help but to laugh now that he was by himself. It was always an experience having a sit down conversation with the one-and-only Grand King. The room could quickly shift a few degrees, which meant you had to constantly be on your toes - otherwise you could be easily dominated, and no one wanted to bow down to someone with the moniker of “Shittykawa.” 

At least, that was how Kuroo viewed it. He would be damned if he simply let Oikawa take over his life. 

Again.

Looking at his phone, he saw his calendar still open, and for this month alone, there were about six or seven planned parties or events. Granted, Kuroo knew just about every one of these shindigs or get-togethers but some just weren’t feasible with his own schedule - how Oikawa could make an appearance at each one would forever amaze him. The only one that looked interesting and matched his availability was next Thursday.

But it wasn’t as if he was just going to go that easily. 

That would mean giving in to Oikawa and admitting he needed the man’s social calendar. 

Nope! 

No thank you. 

He was just going to ignore all of this.

_“It sucks to be you.”_

Yeah, it sure felt like that at times.

Sighing, Kuroo pocketed his phone and decided there was no way he was going to get anything else done for the rest of the night. With that thought, he began to clean up his various half-eaten dishes and disorganized notes, textbooks, and other assortments.

He was done with today.

 

* * *

 

_Hardwood floors are polished to pristine condition. Natural sunlight filters in through the windows closest to the high, vaulted ceiling. The smell of sweat and overheated bodies is suffocating but comforting. The staccato squeaking of rubber sole shoes, soft thuds of vinyl on skin, and voices calling to fellow teammates all sound like music that reverberates throughout the familiar high school gymnasium. It is all like home._

_Kuroo is immediately thrust into the fray of bodies - all of who are trying to keep the ball in the air. Connect. Let it flow. Everything comes so willingly and naturally. No one is out of synch, and this has got to be the best their teamwork has ever been. Yes, these are all of his teammates, giving it their all to enjoy the burn of a good game._

_“Incoming!”_

_Someone shouts as the volley comes back around to their side of the net. It’s a perfect arch and heads straight for the libero._

_“Got it!” Yaku calls back, easily lifting the ball into the air near the floor. This is his domain after all, so it’s no surprise it was a clean receive._

_Kuroo’s eyes follow the familiar yellow and blue pattern. He knows where it’s headed. Yaku rarely ever fails to line up to the setter. Everything is so composed and runs as smoothly as ever. It’s all like clockwork - each cog clicking in place to turn the next one. It’s like blood that makes its way throughout the body with no blockages. It’s all making its way to the most important place that dictates their next plan, next tactic._

_The brain._

_Excitement begins to whirl through Kuroo’s head. His heart pumps faster and his breathing increases from adrenaline. It isn’t a difficult game - that he knows for sure - but this match is giving him a rush he’s never felt before. He sees each move like it’s wading through water. He can predict the course of action, even if he were to close his eyes now. Yes, this is his team and just like how he remembers them all to be._

_“Kenma!” Kuroo calls to his setter. His best friend. His partner. He doesn’t call for shots often, but he can feel himself getting swept up with this energy. It’s invigorating and freeing. How could he pass up this opportunity now?_

_But there is no answer except for a follow up_ thud _, catching Kuroo’s attention._

_Where the setter is supposed to be, there is no one. An empty space is all that exists, and it hits Kuroo like a blow to his chest. A hollow feeling begins to overtake him and everything else fades away._

_The pristine floor, now scuffed by sneakers, cracks and breaks away - taking everyone else with it. But Kuroo still stands alone and surrounded in darkness._

_No gymnasium._

_No team._

_No Kenma._

 

 

Suddenly thrusted upright in the darkness, Kuroo came to his senses. He panted rather hard as if he just came back from a workout. Feeling his heart pound in his chest and sweat roll down his back, he struggled to pull himself together. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead before running his hand through his mess of hair.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness in his room, he tried to reclaim his breathing - in for ten and out for ten. 

In and out. 

In. 

Out.

It had all just been a dream, but even now as he did his best to calm himself down, he had difficulties wrapping his mind around the particular events. Already the scene that played for him was erasing itself. Maybe that was for the best….If something like that could stir him up like this, then Kuroo definitely did not want anything to do with it.

And yet….

_Ding!_

Blinking, Kuroo looked to his nightstand and saw a steady, blinking blue light. His phone. Now that he thought about it, what time was it? He remembered laying down just for a short period, but the light underneath his door was out. 

Was no one home yet? Was everyone asleep?

He picked up his phone and checked the time as it read “3 am” in white, blocky text. He had definitely been out for a good three hours now.

Kuroo knew he should put his phone back and go back to sleep, considering he had class in the morning. However, without even thinking, he unlocked his phone to check his messages. Emails and social media crowded his inboxes as usual, and as he clicked out of them, a particular thread caught his attention - sent not too long ago.

He opened the message and saw that it was a picture.

From Kenma.

Opening the message, Kuroo saw half of Kenma’s face in the image. He had his usual bags under his eye and the black of his hair was mussed from sleep - most likely having slept since the phone call from earlier to now. And noticing the difference between then and now, Kuroo recognized that Kenma had shifted his position from laying down on the couch to sitting up. The blanket that had draped over him was no longer on him and instead covered someone else.

Someone who clearly was dead asleep on Kenma’s shoulder.

Someone with sunburnt hair.

Hinata’s mouth was wide open as he clearly was in a deep sleep - using Kenma as his pillow on the couch. A blanket covered most of his upper body, taking away from Kenma and his baggy sweatshirt. Hinata looked so at ease as he unabashedly slept on his roommate’s shoulder.

“Tch,” Kuroo clicked his tongue as he scrolled past the picture to read the message below it. 

 

_> I woke up like this._

 

Kuroo had to stop himself from responding right away. What would he say? It wouldn’t be anything pleasant, that was for sure. But why was that? Clearly it was an innocent action. After all, this was _Hinata Shoyou_ of all people. The shrimp was too dense to think anything past an innocuous nap. Kuroo should not have been feeling so worked up.

It was that dream’s fault….whatever it was.

Sighing, Kuroo fell back against his mattress and scrolled up on his phone - looking at the sent image once again. He was getting bothered over nothing. It was _nothing_. Everyone had been right. It was the start of the semester, so obviously there was going to be an adjustment period. They all went through it every year, so this should be no different. Kuroo was just feeling deprived of his best friend because their schedules didn’t match up so evenly during this past break. Any hostilities were simply because he didn’t have immediate access to his best friend at the moment. He hadn’t seen him in a while after all. In fact, he hadn’t physically seen Kenma since _that day_ with Tsukki…

Groaning, he rolled over onto his side and looked back at his phone. Now he just felt sour altogether. This wasn’t like him to be so hung up on any one thing. Sure, this wasn’t just _anything_ but still. He needed to get his ass in gear, and as Oikawa put it earlier - back in the game.

He glanced at his calendar. Thursdays had always been his free nights since the second half of his second year. As much as he was capable of securing an invite himself, perhaps using the King’s name wasn’t such a bad idea. 

Next Thursday…

As he mused the idea around, Kuroo could feel himself being pulled back to sleep. He would think about it later - think about _all_ of this.

Later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a bit slow rolling right now, but I really hope you guys liked this chapter!
> 
> I love reading fics with Oikawa and Kuroo being really close friends, and I can totally see their personalities working really well together~ Slowly working in some drama 'cause I gotta get some plot moving along. Be on the look out for all my foreshadowing bullshit! I have a lot planned for this fic~
> 
> I'll also be adjusting the tags as I add more chapters to fit the overall theme of the fic, but if I could add individual chapter tags >.> You'd all be done for with the list XD
> 
> Any comments or kudos would be appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He just….wasn’t himself right now._
> 
> _Maybe it was the pressure of the recruiters; maybe it was his senior year catching up to him; maybe it was everything between him and Kenma; or maybe it was this fucking heatwave. Whatever it was, it was beginning to interfere with his own dreams._

The following week was just another rinse-and-repeat. 

Go to class. Study. Sleep. Go to class. Go to work. Study. Sleep. Go to practice. Go to class. Go to work. Study. Sleep. 

Well, the point was already made. The week was blurring together faster than the infamous, freak quick attack - which was _a lot_ to say the least. And yet, it still surprised students that the weekend was approaching. Some felt as if their prayers had been answered while others were just concerned about the coming weeks. Wherever they fell, no one was as relieved as Kuroo.

Standing in line to get his ritual cup of coffee, Kuroo was absentmindedly scrolling through his social media accounts. The weather was still holding up nicely, although at times it felt stifling - especially on days when he had to attend practice. The hotter it was the more suffocating that gym felt. But it was whatever. No one could control the weather, which meant everyone had to just push through this heatwave. 

In October.

But first: coffee.

Thankfully the warm weather did bring out the best in convenience - extending the existence of the outdoor coffee carts. It definitely made grabbing a last minute drink easy, and the best of these carts just so happened to be by the main science building. At least, that was Kuroo’s unbiased and honest opinion and definitely not because he spent a third of his time at this particular location. 

This part of campus really was the best. 

The science buildings looked like something straight out of a sci-fi movie with their all-glass exterior and modern decor inside. It faced an open quad that almost looked like a small pocket community park. Students often came here if they needed to kill some time on a good day. Today was just another example of that piece of college life. 

There were students splayed out on blankets, studying under the open sun or under the shade. The exchange students were clearly slacking off by playing with a frisbee or hacky sack - almost something straight out of an American college film. Seeing it in person almost made Kuroo laugh aloud his first year, but he was quick to join them just to relieve some stress.

It didn’t matter if it was volleyball, soccer, or any other sport. Kuroo enjoyed being active and joining in on that ol’ traditional competitive spirit - though obviously he would choose volleyball any day. Thankfully, he was on his way over to the gymnasium for an early morning practice.

Despite having had practice the other day, everyone on the team was beginning to feel anxious with recruiters coming and going. It was a last minute schedule, and honestly, only those who were on their way out were really going to be at the gym today. 

Fourth year. 

Some called it their senior year because it was the final year of their undergrad. It was their last chance to either live the dream or pack up and adapt to normal society.

And that was terrifying.

Kuroo placed his order - iced caramel macchiato - and stepped out of line, waiting to hear his name. He returned to scrolling through his feed - laughing at a few mindless posts, liking pictures of his friends, and commenting when he just really couldn’t hold himself back. He often picked on Oikawa’s posts while he boosted Bokuto’s ego. Mostly everyone was on social media in one form or another, and sometimes Kuroo relied on it too heavily in order to stay in touch. He and Oikawa definitely fought over follower counts - more so to just piss the latter off.

As he scrolled down, he double tapped pictures without really looking at them. Several of them just started to blur together until he stopped. His eyes were immediately caught by the familiar mop of orange hair, always tousled without a thought of fixing it. Hinata often posted and all the pictures came out blurry as if he couldn’t steady his hand long enough to capture the moment, and this was no different. This picture was not as blurred as usual because Kuroo could make out someone in the background - hiding away from the brightness of life under a shady tree with his phone in hand.

Kenma.

This week really had been a repeat of last week. There had barely been any communication between him and Kenma outside of the daily reminders Kuroo would send to him. It was beginning to wear on him and his patience. How long was he supposed to wait to let Kenma adjust to this semester? He clearly looked fine from the few snaps he sent back and forth, and even now in Hinata’s picture, Kenma looked well adjusted with that carefree slump of his shoulders.

And he was always with Hinata.

This was beginning to get irritating.

Kuroo’s name was called, and he quickly snatched his coffee from the attendant. Taking a big gulp, he closed out of his phone and stuffed it into his bag.

“KUROOOOOOOO!”

Was that meant to be subtle?

Kuroo had more than enough time to dodge the incoming attack.

Bokuto missed his target (no surprise) and almost landed on his face from being thrown off balance, but he managed to ground his toes and pull back to save himself. He quickly spun on his heel, though, and succeeded in throwing his arm around Kuroo’s neck.

“Knew I’d find you here!” Bo grinned, proud of himself for navigating around Kuroo’s neck-of-the-woods.

Kuroo chuckled. “I’m glad you did. I only told you exactly where I would be~”

“Oi,” Bo puffed his cheeks out, “you said ‘coffee stand. Science building’ and that’s not much to go off of considering the sheer number of these things. Took me fifteen minutes to find which stand you’d be at.”

“Fine, fine~ Good job on finding me, big guy,” Kuroo smirked at him before pulling free from his grasp, “let’s play again sometime~” He winked.

The accepted challenge sparkled in the human-owl’s eyes as he grinned back. “You’re on.”

Kuroo took a few more sips of his coffee and slung his backpack over his shoulder. He had his gear to change in and out of as well as the things he would need for class later. It was a heavy load to carry around, but it only added to that daily workout grind.

“No Akaashi today?” Kuroo quipped as they began to walk across the quad together.

“Nah,” Bo shook his head, “Akaashi had to meet up with some group partners.”

“Gonna be okay without your cheer squad~?”

“I don’t need a cheer squad to perform my best!” Bo declared rather loudly, puffing out his chest.

“Take it easy, champ,” Kuroo snickered, “it’s just practice, remember? Don’t get ahead of yourself now.” He took another sip of his coffee before looking at his friend. “Though I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”

“You’re damn right,” Bo huffed. “Gotta be at my best for those recruiters, ya know. What if they sneak into one of these practices?” His eyes grew wide as the thought slipped into his mind.

Kuroo blinked. “Really? You’re gonna throw that out there now?”

“You never know, Kuroo! I mean, it makes sense, right? What if they want to catch you when your guard is down? It would be too easy to declare someone unworthy of being on a pro team!”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“I’m serious!” Bo pouted, puffing his cheeks out and waving his hands around.

“I know,” Kuroo nodded, “which is the most ridiculous part. You’ve handled recruiters before, Bo. These guys aren’t any different. They’re not gonna show up to practice unless invited, and I know for a fact, they won’t show up to a random fourth-year-only practice.”

“But Kuroo….”

He held up a hand to stop Bo from continuing. “If you wanna believe that, fine. Can’t stop you, but think about it this way….If you keep thinking about something like that happening, you’ll get distracted, mess up, and ruin your chances anyways. Either way, it’s not good to keep worrying about useless things you can’t change.”

Bokuto stopped walking, which caused Kuroo to pause a few steps ahead of him. He looked back at the ace spiker and waited for him to process the information. It usually took a moment for something to stick.

“Huh….you’re right.”

“I usually am,” Kuroo smirked at him, gesturing for him to continue walking with his chin. “Now, come on. Wanted to get to the gym before the others, right? At this rate, we won’t be the first ones there.”

Bo caught back up with Kuroo’s stride and completely changed his demeanor. He still talked about the recruiters, but now, it was different. Better. His ego returned, and he began to boast about their last practice match - noting how well he did that day and he could feel that this was his time to shine. This was his year to make it big in the pro circuit and stand in that spotlight, accomplishing a dream. Bokuto was easy to switch around enough, which in a way comforted Kuroo’s own anxieties….slightly.

Sure, he said that it didn’t matter whether the recruiter was at a practice or a game, but Kuroo couldn’t help but to think otherwise. Bo was right in his thinking that at practice players tended to let down their guard a bit. And with everything on his mind lately, he knew he wasn’t putting his all into these extra practices. 

He just….wasn’t himself right now. 

Maybe it was the pressure of the recruiters; maybe it was his senior year catching up to him; maybe it was everything between him and Kenma; or maybe it was this fucking heatwave. Whatever it was, it was beginning to interfere with his own dreams.

Ever since he was young, Kuroo had wanted to stand on that national stage. He remembered watching the Olympics and being further inspired by rivaling national teams. The pros had such an aura about them that could make a strong impression on any easily-influenced little kid. Kuroo watched those matches religiously and would then try to recreate those same moves in his backyard. 

When he met Kenma, he was encouraged to stick with volleyball. Not once did he tell Kuroo he couldn’t make it big - and that wasn’t to say he was never honest with him. Sometimes he was _too_ honest. But it was that swift mental ass-kicking that kept Kuroo going and was definitely harder without it around.

That first dream was always hard to shake. It was the bar that set all of the goals and accomplishments someone wanted to achieve. For some, they couldn’t mount up to the challenge and would branch off to a new dream. It didn’t mean that it was “lesser” than the first, but no one ever really forgot about that first ultimate desire.

For Kuroo, and a lot of others on his team, it was volleyball. His first true love - not to sound cheesy, but it was the truth. He always had the sport to fall back on and pick him up when he needed it most. But as he got older, he began to realize that there was more than just volleyball to get excited about. Obviously, a social life was desirable, but that wasn’t just it. His next love was definitely chemistry.

The more he devoted himself to his academics the more he noticed his focus and drive with volleyball began to diminish. Chemistry was exciting in its own way. The simple complexities kept him on his toes, not really knowing what to expect. The mystery of it all was captivating. But Kuroo had to always approach it with a sense of caution. If he didn’t, he knew he would get himself hurt.

And so now, here he was with two amazing opportunities in front of him, and right now, his focus was completely gone. He was keeping up with his studies, and he was going to practice. But Kuroo felt distracted. 

What did he want? 

At the moment, everything was telling him to go back to volleyball. It was a shot in the dark to make it pro, but if he could do it, why not? You never knew what was going to happen unless you tried.

“….Kuroo?”

“Hm?”

“You okay?”

Kuroo blinked and realized that not only had they arrived at the gymnasium, but he and Bo had both changed into their practice clothes. How long had he been spacing out for?

Bokuto was already doing stretches, sitting down on the polished hardwood floors with his legs splayed out and grabbing one of his ankles. He was bent forward, but his head was lifted to look at Kuroo with concern.

“Yeah,” Kuroo waved the worried look away, “just waiting for the coffee to set in.”

“You’re just so….quiet.” Bo noted before switching to his other ankle. “You know, if there’s anything on your mind, you can talk to me. I might not have answers, but it never hurts to just talk.”

Kuroo just nodded in response. 

It wasn’t that he couldn’t talk to Bo about what was on his mind - he’d done that plenty of times in the past - but he just didn’t know what to talk about. Clearly he was distracted. 

Conflicted? 

Yeah, that might be a better description. 

But it was all a combination of things and relying on someone else to solve whatever mess his head was in just wasn’t an option. Oikawa was right (not that he’d say it aloud). Kuroo was going to have to figure this out on his own.

“Yeah, Bo, I know. Guess even I,” he placed his hand on his chest, “the _Great Kuroo_ can even succumb to his thoughts~”

Bo snorted, shaking his head. “You’ve been spending too much time with Oikawa.”

“Mean!” Kuroo gasped, sticking his tongue out at him.

Bo’s laughter only increased at that. “Now _that’s_ definitely like Oikawa. What happened to Kuroo? You know from the old days?”

“The old days, huh?” Kuroo thought about that. 

They were weighted words. “The old days” meant something very different but had been comforting at the time. At least back then, his mind had been clear….

“Yeah, those were the good ol’ days~ Ah, how strange it is to reflect on one’s youth~”

“Still sounding like an old man?”

Both Bokuto and Kuroo turned their heads to see Oikawa enter the gym. He was already dressed down in sweats - though not a random ensemble like Bo or Kuroo’s. Oikawa always dressed to impress even when going to the gym but easily catch him at home in his boyfriend’s oversized shirts and ratty old sweatpants.

“Why, speak of the devil and he shall appear,” Kuroo purred before stretching his arms over his head. “And here we thought we could plan our coup quietly~”

“Rude,” Oikawa rolled his eyes and put his gym bag down on the sidelines.

“Surprised you two lasted this long without thinking of mutiny.” Iwaizumi commented. He had walked his boyfriend over to the gymnasium, which he did often when his schedule allowed for it. Considering Oikawa’s complaints last week, Kuroo was a bit surprised to see them in the same room together.

Leave it to Oikawa to make Kuroo second guess Iwaizumi’s dedication.

Bo scrunched his face at the comment. “Mutiny? But wouldn’t that mean you’re planning something against me?”

Oikawa pulled his face up into a sly smile. “What? Would never think of it Kou-chan~”

Iwaizumi hit the back of Oikawa’s head at that.

“No one tears down a benevolent kingdom, Bo,” Kuroo ruffled the man’s hair as it was a perfect opportunity given the temporary, dramatic height difference. He glanced over at Oikawa, “Only an emperor would think of such devious ideas.”

Oikawa feigned shock at the statement. “Me? An emperor? Why, Tetsu, didn’t know you thought that highly of me~”

Iwaizumi grunted, rolling his eyes at his roommates’ exchanges. It got old really quick. “Oikawa, I have to go.”

Quickly, Oikawa spun around to wrap his arms around Iwa’s neck. “But we just got here, Iwa-chan,” he pouted. “You don’t want to help me _stretch_?”

Kuroo snickered as he watched Iwa’s face light up five different shades of red. And despite the obvious embarrassment, the man didn’t move his hands away from Oikawa’s waist. 

“And torture your boyfriend with how stiff you are? My, Tooru, that isn’t a pretty sight at all,” Kuroo teased him.

“Excuse you,” Oikawa turned his head to glare at the middle cockblocker, “no one asked you for your opinion.”

Iwaizumi sighed and shook his head, slowly untangling Oikawa’s long, noodly arms from around him. He gave his boyfriend a gentle smile - very subtle that would normally be missed by those without keen sight. Iwa was a master at that. Oikawa was smart to call dibs early on.

But they were doomed to be together.

Honestly, Kuroo thought Oikawa and Iwaizumi were pulled straight out of a BL manga at times with how nauseatingly committed they were. Childhood friends turned to lovers. Yeah, that was all too predictable. Back in freshman year, Oikawa would Skype Iwa at least three times a week despite both of their campuses being separated by a short train ride. 

“Get a room!”

Without looking around, Oikawa flipped Kuroo off.

“That wasn’t me, Shittykawa,” Kuroo chuckled, shaking his head.

“Still deserved it,” Oikawa sang back, still not peeling away from Iwa.

Nauseating.

Iwaizumi was definitely not someone who participated in PDA. But after sharing a cramped apartment with these bozos for the past two years, he was immune to their presence. He leaned in and chastely kissed Oikawa on the lips before stepping back. Using that moment to wave at Kuroo and Bo a goodbye and leaving the three of them behind.

“Cover your eyes, Bo. That was definitely too hot and heavy for our innocence,” Kuroo teased, snickering to keep his laughter contained.

“Fuck off,” Oikawa spun around to glare at them. His ears were turning red for sure. “One day you’ll learn just what it means to cherish somebody.”

“Ouch,” Bo winced sympathetically as he got to his feet.

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure I’ll understand what it means to be monogamous one day,” he waved them both away.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

Both Oikawa and Kuroo turned to look at Bokuto who was standing triumphantly with his hands on his hips.

“Get your asses in gear and stretch,” Bo pointed at the pair, “because I’m feeling on fire and need to get a few rounds in before the rest of the guys show up. No slacking!”

Kuroo bent over, cackling.

Oikawa blinked, deadpan.

“Our true king has spoken,” Kuroo clapped a hand on Oikawa’s shoulder. “Might as well follow his orders.”

“Well, it’s hard to do that when _someone_ keeps interrupting me.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll let you be, princess~ Let’s go, Bo,” Kuroo turned around and headed for the open court, putting his hands on his lower back as he walked, “apparently the _Great Kuroo_ is too much today.”

Riling Oikawa up and being pumped up by Bo always put Kuroo in a good mood. He felt fresh and restarted - perfect for practice. Having a clear head for once, it was exactly what he needed with the added relief of being able to play. Maybe that would do the trick. His best focus always stemmed from volleyball.

Kuroo managed to set some balls for Bokuto for a few minutes before Oikawa was officially warmed up. With their proper setter ready, Kuroo could actually get some good practice in himself. Blocking Bo’s spikes had always been interesting. No matter how many years past, nothing could compare to facing off against the ace.

After about forty minutes, that good burn started deep in his thighs - screaming his muscles into action - and began to spread down his legs before settling pressure into his calves. He was feeling loose and limber and in good form too. His lungs craved the sting of air, and though his skin was starting its sheen of sweat, everything was welcome. The push and pull of his muscles was all too familiar, and his mind was so far in good clarity as he looked to Oikawa’s form and Bo’s trajectory. 

It was only the beginning.

The rest of the team began to trickle into their practice, and without saying anything, they were all on teams playing a short practice match. With more people around, Kuroo tried to follow in their step - no longer playing a one-man show - and started to slow down. He wasn't tired. Far from it, actually, but his role was not meant to stick out any longer. Blend in and play together to use the strengths of every player.

And because of that, Kuroo began to operate on auto-pilot - a habit he’d have since his high school days.

A developed curse.

His body would react before his mind did, which could be used advantageously in certain situations - both in and out of volleyball. It was a sign of trust amongst teammates and an act of confidence with partners. On more than one occasion, Kuroo had been given the upper hand because of his body reacting on pure instinct. When it worked out, he felt victorious and accomplished. A surge of pride for how well he could operate under stress would overcome him and boost his ego at least until the next game or date. 

However, it was a huge risk too. When on auto-pilot, his mind couldn’t think strategies all the way through. If something failed, Kuroo took it to heart and accepted the blame. And though this was merely a practice game amongst teammates, he felt as if he couldn’t make a mistake right now. 

Kuroo needed to keep his mind occupied on the game. Because if he didn’t -

_WHAM!_

He was on the floor, laying on his back and looking up at the gymnasium ceiling. Blinking a couple of times, Kuroo slowly sat up and looked over to see that he collided with one of the spikers on his team. They’d gone up for a block at the same time, but Kuroo’s body reacted without much thought and he’d put a bit too much power into his jump - didn’t help that the spiker misread the move and didn’t compensate to match, but that was just an excuse.

“You okay?” Kuroo asked, getting to his feet and extending a hand to his teammate.

He took the hand, hopped back up onto his feet, and nodded.

No harm, no foul.

Kuroo simply nodded in return and the match continued. 

Restart. 

Focus. 

On the next rotation, he was serving which put him in the back line. Not so bad, but not his favorite positioning. It always felt so far away from everything. He was fine with serving itself, but when it came to the rest of the volley, it felt off and awkward. And the longer the exchange the more he felt out of place. Times like these, he had to remind himself to focus even more.

If only he could take his own advice.

Despite his best efforts, Kuroo did not retain much focus for the remainder of their practice. By the time everything was said and done, he received a few more hits from miscaught receives, uncalculated blocks, and overall stupid fumblings. There weren’t any more good burns in his legs and the searing in his lungs left him breathless. He was going to have bruises and aches for the next few days and nothing productive came about them.

The _Great_ Kuroo was definitely too much today. Too much in his own head.

“Hey, hey,” Bo slung an arm around Kuroo’s neck after practice as they were leaving the gym together, “what happened out there today?”

Kuroo flinched slightly, noting to himself to be careful of his neck when sleeping tonight. “Don’t know, man. Guess I was a bit distracted….”

“About what?”

He shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Sorry, bro….”

“Nothing to be sorry about. Just gotta make up for it next practice.” Kuroo gave him a comforting grin.

“That’s the spirit!”

Kuroo shook his head, chuckling softly as he pulled away from Bo and readjusted his gym bag onto his good shoulder. “Come on, let’s grab something to eat before class.”

“Yeah! I’m starving,” Bo placed his hands over his stomach and groaned in exaggeration.

“Alright, but winner has to pay,” Kuroo smirked at him, now happy that his team lost in the practice match today.

“What? Shouldn’t it be the loser?”

“And punish my pride even further?” Kuroo feigned to be hurt, putting his hand to his chest. “How cruel, bro.”

Bo just rolled his eyes. He knew these games just about as well as anyone, and yet, he knew he was going to play into it. “Fine, fine,” he slapped Kuroo’s back, causing the man to stumble slightly in his step, “but no matter what, the next round is on you, got it?”

Kuroo held up his hand as if swearing. “Scout’s honor~”

“What scout?”

“What honor?”

Kuroo and Bo both blinked, turning around to see Akaashi walking behind them in perfect step. Dressed in lighter clothes with his messenger bag slung across his chest, there still was a light glow of moisture on his forehead. No one could escape the clutches of this heatwave.

“I am hurt, Akaashi,” Kuroo, yet again, clapped a hand to his chest.

Akaashi simply raised an eyebrow at the display.

“Akaashi~!” Bo chirped before wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders. He pulled back but kept his hands in place as he grinned. “Didn’t know you’d be finished with your project so early!”

“Neither did I,” he agreed and blushed lightly. 

“That’s awesome!” Bo hooted. 

“How was practice?” Akaashi looked between Bo and Kuroo before resting his eyes firmly on his boyfriend in front of him.

Bo’s entire face lit up, and Kuroo knew exactly what he was going to do. Brag. Bokuto couldn’t even help himself whether it was a practice match or an actual game. When he performed well, he always had to give detailed play-by-play coverage of his accomplishments - which some plays were well earned, but Bo never knew when to end.

“And then Kuroo -”

“We were just about to head out to get some lunch. You can tag along,” Kuroo leaned an elbow on Bokuto’s shoulder, stopping the replay before it got worse.

Akaashi cleared his throat. “Actually….I was hoping to eat with Koutarou _privately_ today.”

“Oya?”

Bo looked to Kuroo with an apologetic look - well, what was an _attempt_ at being apologetic. 

“You both owe me a lunch,” Kuroo smirked, stepping away and waving them both off.

“Yeah! Sure! Anytime bro!” Bo practically bounced up and down on the balls of his feet as he quickly grabbed Akaashi’s hand. “See ya!”

Akaashi gave an attempt at a wave before he and Bokuto both hurried off.

Now left alone to fend for himself, Kuroo simply shook his head and chuckled. It wasn’t a surprise, really. After knowing the couple for so long, he knew what signs to look out for, and one of Akaashi’s biggest tells definitely involved Bokuto doing anything remotely with volleyball. It didn’t help that Bo’s overly enthusiastic play-by-play highlighted the hyped up rising star. Kuroo was simply being polite by inviting Akaashi out.

But now here he was.

_Alone._

The shame of being so distracted during practice washed through him like another wave. It was unwelcome and annoying, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He was just going to have to learn from his mistakes and move on.

“Get your act together, Tetsurou,” he told himself before walking towards the closest convenience store.

He didn’t deserve real food after that practice today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse the attempt at writing volleyball into the chapter ^^;  
> Also! Got a deeper look into Kuroo's mind and what kind of things are on his plate. It's not just all fun and games and who's dating whom >.> (I was also happy to squeeze in some Iwa-chan~) We'll get more Iwa in the next chapter! <3
> 
> This marks the end of the exposition and the ball will start rolling from here on out! Moving plot will start pushing through and things will be getting a bit heated too, so expect a rating change in the next chapter or two~ Any comments and/or kudos are always appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Deliberation: Should he walk away and give his roommate privacy? Or should he conceal his presence, press his ear as close as possible, and find out what was the cause of that sound?_
> 
> _A stuttered, raspy exhale of, “T-Tooru….” made that decision_ real _easy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, I am building plot! Things are gonna get _pretty_ interesting~

This was torture.

Sure, he wanted to punish himself for his earlier mistakes, but this was definitely far enough. He may not have been as firm as he thought, but who needed that kind of treatment? It was cruel and inhumane. Perhaps he was a masochist….though he wasn’t gaining any pleasure from this. Sadist? Maybe….but since he was doing this to himself that wouldn’t quite work either….

He couldn’t think straight. 

Not that he ever really did, but he was extra out of it now.

“That’s it,” Kuroo huffed aloud and sat upright on his bed. “I can’t take it any longer.”

He quickly threw his feet over the side of his bed and stood, stretching from being stuck in one position for too long. Something popped in his shoulder, but it was just a reminder of what an abomination he was at practice earlier - a reminder as to why he was punishing himself now.

“We have to have something to eat around here….”

Kuroo stepped over scattered clothes and misplaced textbooks that may or may not have fallen from his bed as he went toward his door. He was starving - not literally, of course, but convenience store food was not enough to keep him filled up until now. He passed his clock on his way out of his bedroom as it read 21:23.

The apartment was fairly quiet, which could have been one reason for having a difficult study session. Kuroo needed noise in order to concentrate. As far as he knew, Bokuto was still out with Akaashi - not having heard anything from either of them since their swift departure; Oikawa was at one of his night classes - a lecture course if Kuroo remembered correctly; and Iwaizumi….well, he was home, right?

Passing by the couple’s bedroom which was just next to his own, Kuroo could see the faint glow of light shining through the cracked door. Yup. Iwa was home.

Out of all the roommates, he and Iwa weren’t the closest. That didn’t mean they didn’t communicate or hated each other of course. They had the least in common. Bokuto and Iwaizumi often went to the gym together - which Kuroo _did_ tag along from time to time - but they were the real enthusiasts when it came to their routine. Obviously, he had plenty of similarities with Oikawa, or well, as much as any couple would have to be as nauseatingly happy as them. Iwa even had common interests with Kenma when it came to films and video games - surprisingly enough. 

But him and Kuroo? They really only had one thing they shared together.

Oikawa Tooru.

It wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable; and more often than not, there was a silent understanding between the both of them. It was in the past. 

Besides, that was a completely different story.

It was rare that he and Iwa were ever alone in the apartment together since the latter always seemed to have classes, labs, work, practice, etc. Kuroo could understand Oikawa’s frustration with having limited time in his relationship, but that was why Kuroo never really bothered with one in the first place. Too much work. Someone was always bound to want more.

His stomach growled at him as he opened the fridge. No matter how many times he looked inside food wasn’t going to magically appear.

Such a disappointment.

Round two of his convenience store punishment was looking like the best option at this point.

Wonderful.

Sighing, Kuroo closed the fridge and ran his hand through his hair. He was going to have put his jeans back on if he was heading out - finding comfort in just boxers and a t-shirt while at home. As he made his way back to his room, Kuroo stopped by Iwa’s door - he should have probably asked if his roommate wanted anything since there was absolutely nothing edible in the place.

As he was about to knock to announce his presence, a sudden inhale of breath caught his ear.

Stopped with his hand mere centimeters from the ajar door, Kuroo froze in place. 

Deliberation: Should he walk away and give his roommate privacy? Or should he conceal his presence, press his ear as close as possible, and find out what was the cause of that sound?

A stuttered, raspy exhale of, “T-Tooru….” made that decision _real_ easy.

There was no reply, but there was a few more grunts and gasps coming through the door. Kuroo began to wonder if Iwa even knew he was home. Being right next door to one of his best friends and his partner, Kuroo had his fair share of overhearing bedroom experiences. They often weren’t subtle about it either - ironic given Iwaizumi’s reservations on PDA. 

Hearing the tell-tale signs, he knew he should have walked away. Kuroo could respect privacy even if he didn’t care about his own at times. But there was something about Iwaizumi’s lowered, husky voice that kept him locked in place to listen further.

From personal experience, Kuroo knew Oikawa was loud. He was unabashedly vocal and was at times the only thing Kuroo could hear leaking into his bedroom beside theirs. Because of that, he never stopped to think about what _Iwaizumi Hajime_ sounded like even after rooming with the man for nearly two and a half years.

Call him a pervert, voyeur, or whatever. He needed to know in order to sate his curiosity. At this point, Kuroo practically knew what all of his friends sounded like in this particular moment. (He claimed for scientific reasons). Well, nearly all of his friends.

Iwa had a naturally lower voice. Deep and gravelly and when riled up, it would come out as a growl, causing him to naturally shudder in response. Kuroo could understand the appeal right away after he first met the man. Damn Tooru and his dibs. Because of that, there had always been a little interest as to what he sounded like and what he did that could drive someone desperate. What was the mystery that was Iwaizumi?

A hum followed by a low moan permeated the cracked door.

Kuroo could feel his own body begin to react on the sounds alone. God, it had been a while. He was already feeling himself become half hard in his boxers, and now his second round of choices hit him. 

Deliberation: Should he manage his way back to his room and take care of the situation right now? (Probably the most rational choice). Or would going out and finding the nearest stranger be the better option? (Definitely a rash and irresponsible decision really).

“T-Tooru….I’m gonna….”

Kuroo swallowed hard, gasping once the lump in his throat was removed. When did his chest become so tight? And his skin buzzed as he listened to Iwa’s panting. It was rough and spasmic as he was clearly on the verge of cumming. Kuroo could feel the tension spilling out into the hall where he stood as his body waited to hear it.

Almost like he _needed_ to hear it.

Fine. He was perverted.

But what rationality was going to come out of this situation? There was no way he could move from his spot. Curiosity really was going to be the death of him.

As if on cue, the low groan that resonated from Iwa’s chest reached his ears. Kuroo physically shuddered at the sound and placed a hand on the wall in front of him. He felt weak in his knees as his cock twitched against his thigh and his stomach churned, feeling warm at his core.

“Fuck,” Kuroo breathed unsteadily.

After a moment, he could hear Iwa’s voice again but couldn’t make out the words. There was a pounding in Kuroo’s ears, and he had to will his legs to move. Making his way to his room, he quickly shut the door and pressed his back against the wall. Trying to steady his breathing, he tilted his head back and squeezed his eyes shut.

Kuroo could easily take care of this himself, but something told him it wasn’t going to be enough. How long had it been again? He hadn’t really thought about it in a while outside of the occasional urge, but now that his body was humming with need, he realized it had been _too long._

Since when had he been the cover boy for abstinence?

Opening his eyes, he focused in on his phone laying on his bed - flashing a familiar blue dot in the corner of the screen. A message? Pushing away from the door, he went to his nightstand and unlocked his phone.

A reminder.

Blinking, Kuroo felt honestly relieved to have let Oikawa mess with his calendar last week. A reminder about a party tonight. It hadn’t really seemed all that interesting before but now….

“Fucking _bless_ ,” Kuroo breathed, grinning almost manacially. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath to steady himself.

That was what he needed.

Quickly he put his phone down, dug through his dresser, and pulled out a pair of jeans. It was very uncomfortable to shimmy into them at the moment; but horny or not, Kuroo Tetsurou was _not_ showing up to a party in tented sweatpants. Bulging jeans were much classier and appealing anyways. He decided to also change his shirt, opting for a red button down with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

With a once-over in his mirror, Kuroo decided that _he_ would definitely fuck himself and knew he was perfectly acceptable to get into any party tonight.

Remembering to grab his phone, wallet, and keys, he made his way out of his bedroom. He didn’t register that Iwa’s bedroom door was full-blown open as he passed by. In fact, Kuroo got all the way to the kitchen before being reminded of the reason why he was heading out in the first place.

Iwaizumi Hajime had the refrigerator door completely open and was bent over with his ass sticking straight out. He was clearly looking for something to eat - just as Kuroo had done before everything happened - and Kuroo had half a mind to just keep walking. 

Do not interact. Do not engage. 

But the Gods definitely had something against him today.

Iwa heard Kuroo’s approach and slowly righted himself. He was only wearing a pair of old sweatpants that read “Aoba Josai” along the left leg - a knowing matching pair to Oikawa’s - that rode low on his hips. He looked slightly flushed from his chest to his neck, and there was no mystery as to why in that moment. In one hand, he held a bottle of water as the other slowly closed the refrigerator door.

“Oh….you were home?” Iwa’s voice cracked just slightly before he cleared his throat.

A slow smile spread across Kuroo’s face. Despite the underlying thrum in his system, he couldn’t just pass up this opportunity. He and Iwa rarely had moments alone and a little bit of teasing wouldn’t hurt anybody.

“Yes, I was,” Kuroo leaned against the entryway to the kitchen, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thought an empty apartment would be perfect for some _alone_ time.”

Iwa just grunted before sipping from his water bottle.

“Oikawa gets out of class soon, right?” Kuroo questioned, his expression unmoving from his mischievous intent.

Iwa cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Must be pretty _eager_ for him to come, hm?”

Impassive. 

Iwa was pretty good at concealing embarrassment given the expert who had constantly berated him since childhood. He simply crossed his arms over his chest, keeping his eyes locked with Kuroo’s. Maybe Kuroo could find someone with a heavy stare like that too for tonight. It was hard finding someone with such an intense gaze in so little time, but he was always up for a challenge. 

It was all apart of the game.

“You’re a bit overly dressed to be studying,” Iwa finally commented, breaking the long stretch of silence between them.

Kuroo ran a hand through his hair and hummed. “Gotta look the part for the right subject. Gonna be focusing on some anatomy tonight.”

Iwa snorted, though it wasn’t in humor. “Sudden change in concentration?” He asked, turning around to grab a container of….something from the fridge and walked over to the microwave.

“You could say that.”

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with me?”

“What makes you think that, Iwa-chan?” Kuroo cocked an eyebrow now - a sudden flare of embarrassment flushing his neck.

Iwaizumi turned around as his food spun in the microwave behind him. With a spoon in hand, he slowly licked whatever remnants were left before letting the utensil linger on his lips - releasing with a wet _pop_. Kuroo suppressed his shudder out of sheer force of will, but that did little to distract another twitch from his groin. 

Damn, what was more attractive than a half naked, _buff_ doctor-in-training thoroughly cleaning off silverware with his tongue?

Nothing.

Well, in this very horny moment, that is.

“Fuck,” Kuroo hissed as he shifted away from the wall. “I-I gotta go.”

Not wanting to look Iwaizumi in the eye, he quickly turned away and made a beeline for his shoes at the entrance. Before closing the door behind him, he could have sworn he heard Iwa shout after him.

“Serves you right for eavesdropping!”

 

* * *

 

Tokyo was a rather large city with its districts acting as smaller, confined cities of their own, and no matter how long he’d lived here, Kuroo was still discovering new pockets to explore. Thankfully for his intentions tonight, one such pocket appeared in his own neighborhood where a party was taking place. He wasn’t going to admit to Oikawa that his efforts came about fruitful, but there was definitely promise here. When he’d entered the crowded apartment, his body was still buzzing with interest and several different faces pulled at his attention.

So why was he leaning over the balcony with a drink in one hand, his phone in another, and no one beside him?

The radiating thrum in his system simmered down to a low hum as he scrolled through social media and took another sip of his drink. Kuroo had been so eager and near desperate earlier, and yet with so many options before him, none of them _really_ caught his eye. He should have just taken care of the situation back at home - maybe ask Iwa and Oikawa to provide a soundtrack through their shared wall. 

But no.

Instead, Kuroo had decided to diminish any hopeful advances by cornering himself away with not enough alcohol and petty internet feuds. 

He was horrible at making decisions.

_**WHACK!** _

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ!”

Kuroo had to hold on for dear life at the unknowing impact to his back. It was either gonna be his phone or his drink, and honestly, he didn’t want to lose both.

With the vibration resonating through his spine, he quickly turned on his heel and glared at the culprit. The force and sincerity of the slap had been all too familiar. He easily looked down into deep, amber eyes that peered up from underneath strawberry blond fringe. Kuroo was still more than a head taller, which would have made him feel powerful if it hadn’t been for the slight shaking in his hands as he still clung onto his life’s decisions.

“Yaku, what the fuck,” Kuroo growled before managing to rest his drink on the ledge next to him and pocketing his cell phone.

“I should be asking you that, Kuroo.” The shorter man cocked an eyebrow at him. “What the fuck are you doing isolating yourself at a party?”

Crossing his arms, Kuroo leaned back and easily fixed his expression into a smirk. “Isolating myself? That doesn’t sound like me. Haven’t you ever tried to lure an unsuspecting victim? Gotta make them feel like they have the upper hand.”

Yaku rolled his eyes at that. “Nevermind I asked.”

This might have been the work of fate - if that was something Kuroo believed in. Perfect opportunities never presented themselves so easily. There was just something he needed to be sure of….

“You here alone?”

Yaku threw his head back to gesture at a familiar group of people. They all seemed pretty distracted even with one of them missing. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Speaking of,” Kuroo quickly changed the subject, “you seem to be down somebody.”

Pulling up one of the outdoor chairs, Yaku took that moment to sit down. Kuroo realized in that moment that Yaku also had a drink in hand - and yet he still hit him hard enough to feel like he’d been struck by lightning. Must have been spending too much time with Nishinoya.

“Not all of us can afford to be out on a weeknight, Kuroo,” Yaku deadpanned.

“And yet, here _you_ are.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Been getting plenty of sleep? We both know how restless your number one student gets,” Kuroo knowingly smirked at the libero.

Yaku sighed and took a quick swig of his drink. “Even after going to separate universities, I still can’t escape him….”

“You know, you don’t have to keep giving him lessons. Could let his new teammates handle him instead,” Kuroo shrugged.

“And have him slack off even more?” Yaku laughed dryly, throwing his head back. “Same team or not,” he took another drink, “he’s an investment I’m not willing to let fail.”

“So cruel, Morisuke~”

Yaku’s eyes immediately flashed to Kuroo - liquid amber burning at him for using his given name so nonchalantly. As if Kuroo hadn’t ever used it before. How cute. But the action did cause him to shudder pleasantly.

“You know,” Kuroo started slowly, moving closer to sit across from his teammate, “you should be more obvious with him. Lev isn’t the type of guy who picks up subtleties.”

“No shit.”

Yaku kept his eyes locked with Kuroo’s. With the proximity closed in, it was clear he was a bit more guarded and alert. They both knew this song and dance. Yaku had all the chances in the world to back away, but it never really started out like that. And Kuroo did come to this party to achieve a goal. 

“And you think you can pick up those signals?” Yaku’s voice brought him back.

“Of course. I’m the _master_ at signals. The Signal Master,” Kuroo licked his lips before taking Yaku’s drink from his hands. One sip was all it took to know that it wasn’t strong. Despite the other man’s shorter stature, Kuroo had seen him slam down more sake bottles than anyone else he knew and still be able to recite all the elements on the periodic table.

Yaku rolled his eyes. “Really? Signal Master? What are you, four?” He shook his head and took his drink back, “Also, you’re being completely obvious right now.”

“Never meant to hide my intentions,” he shrugged, casually straightening his posture. “I told you my strategy from the start.”

Their knees brushed together before locking eyes once more. Kuroo’s hand rested on the edge of Yaku’s knee. After a moment passed and the man hadn’t slapped him away, he moved his hand a little further up his thigh and leaned in closer to Yaku’s personal space. The humming returned to his system and Kuroo could feel his teammate begin to reciprocate the earlier shudder.

“You didn’t actually plan for this,” Yaku stated, though his bite was diminished by his inhale at the end. “Not with me.”

“Not for anyone in particular, no,” Kuroo agreed, stretched as far as he was willing to go, “but that’s half the fun. Gotta be patient for the big catch~”

“Tetsurou.”

It was a cautious growl.

Kuroo shivered at his name - a weakness he’d admit - and lightly dug his fingers into Yaku’s thigh. The more he waited the more he began to buzz. He was reminded of Iwa’s earlier intense gaze as his eyes bore into Yaku’s. Similar, yes, but knowledge in what the libero could do definitely out-weighed Iwaizumi’s mystery. Not a stranger, no, but there still weren’t any ties. 

Nothing to worry about.

Nothing.

The exact moment Yaku Morisuke fisted his hand into Kuroo’s shirt was the same moment Kuroo knew he’d won. Yaku didn’t bring him any closer but used his grip to steady himself. He finally leaned in and crashed their lips together. It was all teeth and lips and not the right angle, but it was all welcomed at the same time.

Yaku growled in the back of his throat and Kuroo sighed in response, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. He had always been a bit more demanding than anyone else Kuroo had been with, and even now, that habit didn’t go away. He was just as hungry as Kuroo - maybe a bit more frustrated than usual. It was easier to give in rather than lead sometimes, despite the carnal drumming in his veins. Yaku tightened his grip in Kuroo’s collar before moving his free hand to lightly pull at Kuroo’s hair.

Breaking the kiss to gasp, Kuroo didn’t mind the hair pulling. Yaku was always scrappy, and it was familiar. He liked it a little rougher than most other partners, but that didn’t mean Kuroo was just going to roll over.

Smirking, Kuroo couldn’t help but to comment breathlessly, “Like old times?”

Yaku’s eyes had darkened just a bit since the last time they were open. Looking at Kuroo, he matched his expression. “Nothing ever changes.”

Good.

Kuroo took that moment for himself and straightened out of his chair. The wrought iron patio furniture really wasn’t that comfortable anyways. Towering over Yaku now, he bent over and dropped his weight onto one hand - the chair’s slender armrest - while the other traced the man’s jaw. He tilted his chin up and restarted the kiss - already biting and sucking at his lower lip as if they never paused.

Kuroo licked inside of the other’s mouth and tasted nostalgia. Memories of locker rooms, utility closets, and summer training camps flickered just behind his eyes. His cock twitched in response, craving what it knew was to come.Yaku bit back, pulling at Kuroo’s bottom lip until he was able to gain dominance over the kiss. With everything going on outside of this moment, this distraction was perfectly acceptable. 

Stress-relief at its finest.

This was also when his mind became the clearest. Kuroo no longer thought about school, work, or volleyball. All he could feel, taste, and hear was Yaku and the intensifying buzz prickling just under his skin - powering him into a more controlled state. This was much better than being by himself or with some stranger. No awkward conversations or talks about feelings. 

No thoughts about consequences.

Yaku’s hands found their way underneath Kuroo’s shirt, flattening out against his toned abdominal muscles. As one hand went up, the other stayed firm just above his hip bone. The buttons on his shirt wanted to give out but restricted the wandering hand from going any further. Kuroo shivered at the electric shock from some much needed skin-on-skin contact and pulled away.

Not wasting a beat, Yaku took that moment to trail kisses along Kuroo’s jaw and dip just below the bone. His lips met the sensitive underside of skin below his earlobe causing Kuroo to sigh in response. Kuroo had to hold onto the chair’s armrests with both hands now in order to keep himself standing. He craned his neck away automatically, baring himself vulnerable above Yaku and knowing full well what permission he was releasing to him.

The licks and sucking felt good - even the teeth that grazed along his collarbone. The pounding in his chest and the goosebumps forming along his arms felt exciting. None of this was news or eye-opening discoveries. This was his body reacting to stimulus. Much _needed_ stimulus. 

And it was just….familiar. 

Physical.

An agreement between the two of them from long ago. 

“Tetsurou,” Yaku’s voice brought him back once again. He was clearly out of breath and there was no hiding his intentions either.

Kuroo simply nodded in response. 

He knew what that meant and thanked whatever higher being there was because something was finally going to go according to plan. Pulling himself away, his body felt light. He could no longer feel the aches from practice earlier or the unfulfillment of convenience store food in his stomach. All he felt was ready.

Ready to get out of this funk and return to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a weakness for all of Kuroo's ships sooooooo no regrets~ But just remember that this _IS_ a KuroKen fic and any Kuroo ships mentioned, seen, or presented otherwise actually do hold relevance, so don't be too harsh on me! It'll make the story overall interesting anyways and y'all will thank me later ;)
> 
> I will warn you that next chapter is going to change the rating of this fic! Totally _not_ nervous to release that chapter or anything. Nope! >.>
> 
> As always, comments/kudos are always welcomed! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Sex was supposed to be fun. That’s how Kuroo liked it. Teasing, playing, exploring - these were all the best aspects of sex._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a head's up: This fic's rating has now changed!
> 
> Besides the gratuitous smut, this chapter is kinda important for later in the fic, but I totally understand if KuroYaku is not your favorite thing >.> Thought I would let y'all know beforehand! :3

The city was an awfully big place.

For outsiders, the skyscrapers and overcrowded sidewalks could seem overwhelming - too much stimulation at once. For city dwellers, it became the everyday and eventually could dull the senses - taking casualties in monotony. But there were reminders that the city wasn’t just one idea at any one time. Pop-up shops, seasonal markets, and festivals annually changed the area, but the biggest influence was always the people. New and familiar faces entangled everyday and could drastically alter the perspective of someone else - sometimes gradually and other times overnight.

It was all a matter of timing.

Neon lights filtered in through the expansive windows that lined an entire wall. There were no curtains or blinds or anything really shielding the bedroom from view. Everything was on display as if the occupants lived in a zoo. The scattered piles of clothes were visible, the comforter tossed to the floor without a care, and just the shape of two individuals collapsed on the king sized bed could be made out thanks to the flashing lights.

Kuroo’s body felt heavy as he sank into the sheets - exhausted. After coming back to Yaku’s apartment, they didn’t waste any time devouring each other. It had been a mess of teeth, lips, hands, limbs - you name it. Eager to get the first quick fix of the night, momentarily settling for hands and mouths like touch starved tigers. Delicious and rewarding, yes, and yet it still felt lacking. It hadn’t been enough.

Kuroo was still hungry.

Glancing over at Yaku, Kuroo could see a mirrored restlessness. Despite just getting off, neither one was ready to stop. 

Far from it.

Yaku caught his eye, and for a moment, it looked as if he wanted to say something. But the thought died as quickly as it came when he hooked his leg over Kuroo’s hip and rolled on top of him. Pinning his hips with his thighs,Yaku stared down at him - calculating. Kuroo simply quirked an eyebrow and smirked.

Yaku looked _starved_.

Kuroo went to touch Yaku’s face, but the hand was quickly snatched and affixed beside his head. Before he could even think about the other hand, it was also captured. The final blow happened when Yaku bent forward and seized Kuroo’s bottom lip, pulling slowly to open his mouth.

All of his fight had been during the first round. He had matched Yaku move for move - not easily letting up with bites and kisses. But now, a bit of his fire had died down. It wasn’t completely extinguished, but Kuroo could definitely feel the submission come easier. He wasn’t giving up, but it felt nice just laying tangled up in the sheets.

Kuroo felt content like this.

Yaku’s grip eased up just slightly and the biting softened to languid kisses. Slow but fluid. Maybe Yaku was beginning to feel his exhaustion too. As much as he liked the heated make out sessions and hurried sex, _this_ was also nice. Kuroo could feel the coals of his fire stoke and churn at his core, but it was slowly building. The burn felt just as good as a deep stretch after practice - something that always made his muscles relish.

Round Two usually went like this. Kuroo could catch his breath while still chasing that need - that desire. While his body ached and was still just a bit sensitive, this had become his favorite part. Each mark from teeth, lips, tongue - each touch melted into him as little reminders of what had happened and what was going to happen again. He knew he wasn’t going to be satisfied until his fire burned out completely.

Yaku pulled away from the kiss - his breathing still a little uneven and his eyes retaining their appetite from earlier. He tilted his head to the side, and just when Kuroo thought he would continue, Yaku just remained still above him. His face clearly fought back to hide something, but Kuroo had known him for too long. How could Yaku hide from him?

Clearly, Yaku wanted to say, _Are you done?_

“Don’t give me that look.”

“What look?” Yaku snapped back, though there was no venom.

Kuroo cocked an eyebrow. With Yaku’s grip slack on his wrists, it was easy to free a hand and run it up the man’s thigh. Kuroo could feel the strength in the muscles from years of hardwork and dedication - years they spent together - before resting against the juxtaposed hip that now had a forming bruise courtesy of himself.

“You’re judging.”

“What?” Yaku blinked. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No.”

“Yup.”

Yaku growled lowly in his chest before sighing. He brought a hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What would I be judging you for?”

Taking advantage of the moment, Kuroo fixed himself into a semi-sitting position, using his elbows for support. Yaku shifted slightly but still remained in his lap. “You think I’m finished.”

It wasn’t accusatory. Just a fact - a statement.

“Are you?” Yaku challenged, his amber gaze fueling the slow simmer in Kuroo’s stomach. He didn’t blame him for asking. 

After all, there hadn’t always been a Round Two.

“Not even close,” Kuroo breathed, sitting up straighter now and hooking an arm around Yaku’s waist - bringing him flush against his chest. In one fluid movement, Kuroo had managed to flip their positions so that the smaller man was laying flat on his back and tangled up in the sheets.

Not stopping there, Kuroo buried his face in the crook of Yaku’s neck. He kissed over a few places he’d already left marks before grazing his teeth along his jaw. Especially teasing the corner of his mouth, Kuroo enjoyed this as well. He let his lips linger and trail down every inch of skin, nuzzling his cheek underneath Yaku’s jawline so that his hair tickled just against his nose.

“Fuck you,” Yaku cursed, feebly pushing Kuroo’s head away to free himself from the sensation.

Kuroo simply chuckled in response. He was always at the advantage thanks to his stature. Yaku should have thought Kuroo generous with the way he let him be commanded in bed. It was fun at times, but it was even more fun making the other breathless.

It was all done with affection, of course - something tamed and reserved. He didn’t know when he started enjoying this. There was definitely a time where he didn’t savor this aspect of sex - though Kuroo doubted that he would have done this kind of thing with a stranger. It was too familiar.

Too intimate.

“If you’re into this,” Yaku’s fingers found Kuroo’s hair and pulled - causing a moan to slip past Kuroo’s control, “then don’t get distracted.”

Now, _that_ got his attention.

The gradual buildup had finally started to percolate back into his core. The lethargic touching and kissing was no longer enough, and it felt as if a switch had been flipped. Returning to the previous pace, Kuroo had decided to give Yaku proper attention.

The sheet that separated them was rather thin, and Yaku had a rather honest body. Bringing his hand down, Kuroo slowly palmed him through the fabric. A gasp hitched in Yaku’s chest as he reacted to the touch. He slowly rolled his hips upward while Kuroo teased a nipple with his teeth.

Having long, slender fingers was also another advantage of Kuroo’s. He extended long strokes up the length of Yaku’s cock, using the material between them, adding to the torturous sensation. A needy whine escaped from the other man’s throat as his fingers dug into Kuroo’s scalp. And as if in response, Kuroo hummed against the dull pain coming from his roots. He didn’t mind being handled a little roughly.

He wasn’t delicate.

And neither was Yaku.

Finally pulling the sheet down, Kuroo freed Yaku’s cock and stroked it leisurely, reminding the the other how good it felt to have skin-on-skin contact. Meeting Kuroo’s expectations, Yaku hummed pleasantly and shifted his hips. Kuroo looked to the edge of the bed and reached over to grab the bottle of lube from the nightstand.

Applying a diligent amount to his fingers, Kuroo used his free hand to rub circles into Yaku’s hip and gently pressed his slick index finger to the man’s entrance. He could feel the tight ring of muscles curl around the first digit - only about a knuckle deep. When he heard the inhale of breath as he pushed a bit deeper, Kuroo leaned in and created a long stripe with the flat of his tongue up the underside of Yaku’s cock.

A moment passed as Kuroo made small, shallow movements with his finger and complimented with kisses at Yaku’s hips and the base of his dick. Once he was relaxed, Kuroo pressed in a second finger to slowly work him open. Yaku’s body responded with a shudder, but he also pressed down on Kuroo’s fingers. He was aware that Yaku wanted more, though there was no need to rush. They had time, and surprisingly, Kuroo was the one with all the patience tonight. He savored watching normally composed men unravel underneath him.

Kuroo had grown accustomed to indolent sex the second time around - taking his time to enjoy his partner rather than rushing through each step. When it had happened, well again, he wasn’t too sure. It had been a natural adjustment with his last partner.

Not boyfriend.

Partner.

Kuroo never had a boyfriend.

“A-Are you sure you, ah, want this?”

Kuroo stopped his ministrations, pulling his fingers back, and looked down at Yaku. “Are you kidding me? You have terrible timing, Morisuke.”

Yaku simply rolled his eyes. His cheeks were flushed, lips swollen red, and he looked completely wrecked, yet….he just had to interrupt. Was _he_ trying to stop? Kuroo knew when “no” was “no.” Hell, they even had a safe word in place. So if Yaku didn’t want to continue, all he had to do was say so. No need to make it seem like Kuroo was the uninterested one.

“Shut it,” Yaku grumbled before lightly kneeing Kuroo in the stomach to fall over and rolling back onto him.

Kuroo chuckled breathlessly. How interesting. He stretched an arm behind his head and grinned, meeting Yaku’s wary gaze. Shifting his hips, Kuroo was thankful for the slight friction, but it wasn’t what he really wanted at the moment. 

Yaku was the one who needed to get his head back on right.

“Come on, kitten, cut this -”

“Don’t.” Yaku’s voice cut him off before he narrowed his eyes at him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Fine,” Kuroo sighed, moving his hand back around to cup the man’s ass - squeezing and pulling him close. “But I’m sure. I want this.” He met his eyes, and they stayed like that for a moment - taking in one another.

“It’s just….been awhile,” Yaku mumbled out, looking away now as his cheeks were bright red.

Ah, so it finally came out.

Truth be told, Kuroo was in the same boat. It had been nearly two months since the last time he was with….someone. He tried not to think about it - especially now.

“Aw, so you weren’t worried about my virtue~?” Kuroo did what he knew best to alleviate the situation. Added a pinch of snark.

And Yaku replied with a grimace. “What virtue?”

“Mean!” Kuroo stuck his tongue out at him. “I am plenty virtuous~”

“You’re the devil.”

“Only one of them~”

“God, you have such a mouth on you.”

“Want me to remind you how much you like it?” Kuroo purred, giving another squeeze to Yaku’s ass.

Yaku smacked his hand out of the way and looked at him very flatly. “That’s not what I want.” He reached for the lube Kuroo had tossed aside and coated his own fingers. Picking up where Kuroo had left off, he leaned forward onto his chest and pressed two digits into himself.

Kuroo simply raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t like my fingers?” He tried to feign being hurt, but even he could feel the curl of his lip that threatened a smile.

“You, ah, were too slow,” he panted, already pressing a third inside of himself.

Kuroo cupped Yaku’s chin with one hand, squeezing his cheeks just a bit. “And you are so impatient,” he playfully growled, crushing their lips together. Once again, they returned to all teeth and heat, and Kuroo had the upper hand while Yaku was distracted on his fingers.

Yaku moaned as he must have hit the right spot - his body lightly vibrating and pressing further against his chest. Even Kuroo felt that go straight to dick. He released Yaku’s face, pulling back to reach into the nightstand yet again. While he rummaged around, the smaller man pressed his nose into Kuroo’s neck, continuing to rock back and forth in order to attain his prostate again.

Locating the condom, Kuroo ripped the packaging with his teeth - only having one non-slick hand available - and rolled it onto his cock. It didn’t go unnoticed just how hard he had gotten from watching Yaku open himself up. With the panting and quiet mewls in his ear, Kuroo was being thoroughly tested now on his newly developed restraint.

“T-Tetsu,” Yaku stuttered against his neck.

Flipping over one last time, Kuroo adjusted their positions so that Yaku was splayed out on his back - having been emptied of all appendages once more. Kuroo reached for the bottle of lube and spread it onto his length, humming as he stroked himself.

“You’re killing me….” Yaku huffed, heels digging into the mattress. He looked as if he wanted to kick him. “Come _on_ , Tetsu,” his tone inflected upwards into a whine.

“What did I say,” Kuroo licked his lips as he lined himself up, “about patience?”

Pushing the head of his cock inside, Kuroo was trying to hold out on his own self-control. Yaku always had a tendency to push himself too far. _And_ he was needy. That was just a bad combination altogether. Kuroo inched himself, panting with each moment that past in his attempt to be conscientious, but Yaku still couldn’t release control. He forcefully pushed his hips down to fill himself up.

They both let out a moan - Yaku for being full and Kuroo for being buried to the hilt. Yaku contracted around his length as he adjusted.

“Fuck,” Kuroo huffed breathlessly, “you’re tight….”

“Just….move,” Yaku tilted his hips upward.

Kuroo moaned in response. He really should have waited a bit longer for the adjustment, but if Yaku was telling him to move, well, he knew his own damn body.

He slowly dragged himself out to where just his tip was still inside before thrusting back, reaching as deeply as he could. Kuroo paced himself at deep, full thrusts almost as a punishment to Yaku’s impatience. He was going to fuck him thoroughly just as an I-told-you-so.

The smaller man raised his arms above his head, stretching his body out and arching his back. His mouth hung suspended in a low moan - and his voice. Fuck, the noises were completely obscene. Echoes of slapping thighs against ass and choked off voices would have made any other man lose themselves in the moment. But Kuroo remained in control, focused on driving his hips forward and relentlessly attacking as far as he could reach.

There was something satisfying about pushing his partner to their limits. Blame it on his rapacious curiosity, but Kuroo had the need to unravel everyone around him. Leaning in, he took advantage of Yaku’s now elongated body that was left defenseless. Kuroo’s tongue swirled around his nipple before rolling it between his teeth.

“Fuck, K-Kuroo,” Yaku gasped, his hands reactively reaching for him.

Kuroo chuckled lightly before humming around the bud and sucking, causing Yaku to dig his nails into his shoulders. The reaction was to be expected, but it still threw him off with how sensitive Yaku was.

Sex was supposed to be fun. That’s how Kuroo liked it. Teasing, playing, exploring - these were all the best aspects of sex. 

Sure, choosing the right partner was also apart of it, but that wasn’t too hard. More often than not, everyone was willing to try something at least once. It added to the whole game. An added level. Switching party members out was common and even needed at times - gotta come up with the best strategy afterall for optimal gameplay and - 

And Kuroo had spent too much time with Kenma. Making video game metaphors while - 

“ - _urou_.”

“Ha?” Kuroo panted, lifting his head to meet Yaku’s eyes.

His gaze caused an electric shock to go down Kuroo’s spine. “I-If you’re not g-gonna focus then, hah… _move_.”

Kuroo’s pace stuttered slightly at the command, groaning in the back of his throat. He pulled his hips back - Yaku sighing at the loss but quickly taking advantage and rolling Kuroo onto his back. Yaku repositioned himself now to straddle Kuroo’s waist, grasping Kuroo’s dick in his hand and pushing his body down until he was full once again.

They both moaned.

“F-Fuck,” Kuroo breathed.

There was a reason Kuroo didn’t relinquish power over to the small libero. Yaku was relentless. In all the times they had hooked up together, he always left Kuroo exhausted and drained - nothing left except the overwhelming need to sleep. With Yaku riding him, he definitely wasn’t going to last much longer.

As Yaku brought his hips down, Kuroo bucked up into him - meeting every powerful movement with his own. His fingers hooked behind Yaku’s knees, digging into flesh, while Yaku leaned back on Kuroo’s thighs to get more leverage.

Kuroo’s eyes raked up and down Yaku’s body - small and slender, yet there was obvious muscle with the way he moved. He was flushed all the way down to his chest, heaving breaths with every rise and fall of his hips. And the bob of his swollen cock easily caught Kuroo’s attention.

He reached out and wrapped his long fingers around Yaku’s dick, matching the rhythm the smaller man had started to build. Yaku was slick with precum and adding pressure to his head helped to expel a little more. When his hips stuttered, Kuroo smirked up at him and knew that Yaku was almost finished.

“Mm,” Kuroo hummed, “you ride me so well, Morisuke.”

Yaku moaned.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Kuroo cursed and bit his own lip when Yaku pressed down, forcing Kuroo to hit his prostate. The shiver that enraptured Yaku’s body spread to Kuroo’s, causing him to moan from radiating pleasure.

“T-Tetsu,” Yaku whimpered as his hips stuttered again.

Willing his body to sit up, Kuroo wrapped an arm around Yaku’s waist to bring him level to his chest, and Yaku buried his face into the crook of Kuroo’s neck. He positioned his free hand behind himself and used it as leverage - plunging his cock with more force thanks to the new angle. Yaku whined against Kuroo’s neck, panting hot, wet breaths against his already sensitive skin while his nails carved half crescents into his biceps.

They were both so close. Kuroo could feel his core _burn_ \- no longer a warm simmer in the back of his mind but a full-blown wildfire at the forefront of his very being. There were no other thoughts on his mind. None. No thoughts of video game comparisons or ex-partners. Nothing of what once was and what could be. The only thing driving him forward was the desire to chase after this release.

Yaku dug his heels into the mattress, and while using the last bit of strength in his body, he drove his hips home. That was all it took for the both of them. Heat blossomed between the two of them as Yaku came between both of their stomachs and contracted around Kuroo’s dick to give him that final push. All he saw was white while clinging onto the smaller man - his back shuddering while his hips stuttered completely out of rhythm.

Heaving a sigh, Yaku melted in Kuroo’s arms - shivering slightly through the aftershocks. He pressed his face to Kuroo’s neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses in silent appreciation.

Kuroo could feel the burn stretch all throughout his body as he came off his own high. His back and arms felt strained, but it felt good. Really good. It was as if he just got all the distractions from the past couple months fucked right out of him.

After a moment, Kuroo untangled his arms from Yaku as the latter managed to pull off. He flopped back onto his bed, sprawling onto his back, and immediately closed his eyes. Kuroo hummed pleasantly after disposing the condom and turned to look at Yaku whose breathing had started to even out.

“Not gonna shower?” Kuroo mused with a chuckle, lazily tossing his legs over the edge of the bed.

Yaku made a noise in the back of his throat. “Mm...too tired…”

Kuroo made a face, though it went unseen, before shaking his head. “It’s your call, but you’re gonna be gross later,” he teased.

Yaku blindly kicked a leg out, missing Kuroo by a good two inches.

“Alright, alright,” Kuroo stood up and ran a hand through his mussed up hair. There was no point in arguing with Yaku.

Heading out into the hall, Kuroo made his way to the bathroom. Because of the hasty retreat back to the bedroom, he really hadn’t taken notice of the new apartment. He heard that Yaku had moved recently and that his roommates were always out of town - leaving a lavish flat just about to himself. Lucky. Yaku was always like that though. He knew the right connections and planned accordingly.

He passed what looked like two bedroom doors - a dry erase board hung on one door and the other was locked (of course he tried). Finally reaching the bathroom, Kuroo willed his body to the shower and just turned the handle, not really caring about water temperature. It started up with a hiss before he stepped inside and, oh damn, he should take more showers at Yaku’s place because the water pressure was amazing.

Kuroo simply pressed his back against the shower wall and closed his eyes.

The water felt nice as it cascaded down his tired body. He allowed his mind to enjoy the soft sounds as the water hit the shower floor before huffing out a sigh. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders when he was with Yaku, but it was starting to make its way back now.

Sex was supposed to be fun. Kuroo really never put much emotion into anything he did with sex. It wasn’t serious. No one should overthink it either, and yet, here he was wondering what the fuck was different. It had been fun - fucking fantastic - but something had been missing.

Kuroo had been with Yaku before. They’d had amazing sex before. But nothing had ever been missing before.

This was different from when he was with -

But that was a different arrangement because -

No. 

No, he was done with all of that.

“Leave it alone, Tetsurou,” Kuroo told himself. “Just...leave it.”

Once he was rinsed off and patted dry, Kuroo moved back to the bedroom. His body was really feeling the exhaustion now. He had brought back a wet cloth for Yaku, but the smaller man was already passed out by the time he got back.

Even though it was a rather large bed, Kuroo knew better than to just leave Yaku the way he was. One way or another the man was going to cling onto him, and there was no way Kuroo was going to scrub off _again_. So he took the damp towel and did it for Yaku who only slightly stirred but quickly resumed sleep. Honestly, he was such a heavy sleeper.

With that done and out of the way, Kuroo felt like his responsibilities were over - allowing him to finally crash. When he drifted off, he didn’t think about much.

Not of conveniently absent roommates.

Not of unfair water pressure.

And especially not of past partners.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little self-indulgent KuroYaku for multishippers BUT I hope y'all picked up on any of that foreshadowing >.>
> 
> We're gonna be getting some background info on what went down before the semester, Kuroo has some amazing friends, and Kenma will be coming back into the picture! I promise things will begin to add up~ Thank you for sticking around and having patience on my slow burn ;)
> 
> I'm going to try and get the next chapter out ASAP because I will be going to some conventions within the coming weeks, and I don't want to leave you guys hanging for too long!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“We already have a pattern - a plan. If we need the other while single, there’s no questions asked, right?”_
> 
> _Kuroo nodded. “Yeah. Nothing about that has changed.”_
> 
> _“Nothing’s changed...” he repeated softly. “You sure?”_
> 
> _“Of course I’m sure, Yaku. Wouldn’t I be the first one to know if something changed about me?”_
> 
> _“Doubt it.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Managed to get this chapter out before the convention this weekend!! Not sure if I'll be able to get the next one out next week as I have _another_ convention, but I will always try my best!

It had gotten colder.

In the matter of a few days, the temperature had dropped significantly as if it realized what season it was. The sun still kept things mild, but once in a while a wind would send a reminder that Mother Nature finally turned on the air conditioner. Because of this, however, there wasn’t much to the usual beauty of Fall. Instead of changing colors, leaves simply browned overnight and fell off their branches - though it wasn’t as if Tokyo was known for its autumnal foliage.

But there was definitely still something missing.

Kuroo still couldn’t figure out what that _something_ was. He honestly thought sex was the missing piece, and while it helped, it didn’t take long for him to get distracted again. 

Three days. 

His mind had fogged over in just three days after being with Yaku. But during those few days, Kuroo had been at the top of his game. The matches on Friday night and Saturday afternoon couldn’t have been performed any better. It had been the first time all semester where he felt like his old self.

Today, however, had reverted right back to square one. He was unfocused and simply working on autopilot. Kuroo tried to tell himself that it was because of those two matches that he was like this. He was just exhausted, and even his friends had agreed.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

Kuroo blinked as he looked to his right. Jogging right alongside of him was none other than his best bro. The team had use of the track on Sundays - to which everyone took the opportunity to use whether they were drained or not.

“What’s up?” Kuroo asked as if Bokuto hadn’t just had a one-sided conversation for an entire lap around the track.

Bo quirked an eyebrow up at the question. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

Blinking again, Kuroo didn’t know what to say. “Just...running, I guess.”

“Running, huh...So how long have you been running?” Bo asked almost carefully. It was odd for him to be so cautious with his words. Not impossible but definitely odd.

“Um,” Kuroo thought for a moment, “about forty minutes?”

It felt longer.

“Hn,” Bo nodded and turned his eyes forward.

Kuroo narrowed his eyes at him. All of his friends were perceptive in their own ways, even if they usually didn’t present themselves as such. Bokuto’s silence hit harder than if he’d asked Kuroo what kind of kinks he was into - which would be an interesting conversation based on Bo’s idea of “kinky.”

This wasn’t interesting.

This was unsettling.

“Alright, spill it.” Kuroo slowed down to a stop off the side of the track, placing his hands behind his head to adjust his breathing. “What’s up?”

Bokuto - the ever faithful workout companion - followed his lead, slowed down, and took in deep breaths as he bent at his hips. He lifted his head and stared up at Kuroo with golden concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m,” Kuroo was thrown off by the question and the captivity of Bokuto’s gaze. He was completely serious with what he was asking. And sure, Kuroo could brush it off say _yes, of course, bird brain_ he knew that that wouldn’t do. Bo would see right through him. “I think so....?”

Bo didn’t say anything.

“I mean, I know I’ve been distracted lately, but after the other night with Yaku -”

“Woah, wait, wait, wait,” Bo interrupted and held up a hand. “You were with Yaku? Is that why you didn’t come home Thursday?”

Kuroo huffed out a laugh. “Who are you, my Mom?”

Bokuto laughed at that and shook his head.

“Yeah, I was with Yaku. Just so happened to be at the same party,” Kuroo shrugged.

“And?” Bo wiggled his eyebrows.

“And it was Yaku.” He shook his head, dropping his hands to his hips. “Not the first time we were together, you know.”

“Yeah, but...” Bo cut himself off and stood straighter, looking out across the track. When he did this, Bokuto wasn’t _that_ much shorter than Kuroo. And with his broad stature, he certainly was intimidating to the untrained eye.

Kuroo followed his line of sight to a group of teammates across the track. They were in the grass - all at different stretching positions. There was one who was the shortest amongst them and clearly the one in charge as he seemed to be directing their poses. Always the dutiful teacher.

“But?”

“Have you two talked?” Bo turned back to look at his best friend now. Sincerity was beautiful on his face - Kuroo could easily admit to that.

“Outside of matches? Not since leaving his place Friday.” Kuroo shrugged.

Bokuto crossed his arms and puffed out his chest. “You two should talk.”

“No shit, Bo,” he chuckled, ending on a sigh. “But when do you suggest I do that? We’re currently in the middle of practice, _Captain_.”

Nodding slowly, Bo took Kuroo’s words into consideration for a few seconds before speaking, “You’re right. We are.” He then turned around and in the most booming voice Bokuto Koutarou could muster, yelled, “YAAAAKUUUU!”

The whole team stopped - runners on the track, the first years stretching on the pitch, and whatever stragglers were taking a water break. Everyone halted for their captain.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Kuroo narrowed his eyes at his soon-to-be-sleeping-at-Akaashi’s-apartment-for-interfering roommate.

Bo simply grinned at him like the most natural thing in the world and clapped a hand to Kuroo’s shoulder. “Just having the team’s main libero come talk strategy plays with one of our best middle blockers. It’s important for teammates to have good communication skills.”

“You’re abusing your power.”

Bo just continued to grin.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Tooru.”

“Someone better be fucking dying or I’ll see to it that they will,” Yaku’s voice was a hushed growl as he approached the duo. His face was red, and Kuroo knew it wasn’t from sun exposure.

Kuroo simply jabbed a pointed finger into Bo’s ribs. “Blame this one. _Captain_ has something to say.”

Yaku simply eyed the pair before directing more attention to their said captain.

Still grinning, though rubbing his side where Kuroo poked him, Bo clapped his hands together. “So you and Kuroo, huh?”

Kuroo choked on air and Yaku’s face grew even redder.

“Excuse me?”

“Bro!” Kuroo shook his head, pressing his face into his hands. He wasn’t the embarrassed one - not at all - but time and place mattered. “What happened to your brilliant Oikawa-esque cover up?”

Bo shrugged his shoulders before looking at Yaku again. “So?”

Yaku simply glared daggers at his captain. 

Knowing that look, Kuroo decided to take the action upon himself and slapped the back of Bo’s head, creating a satisfying yelp from him. Yaku huffed gently and crossed his arms - settling a bit after that.

“I thought the arrangement was clear,” Yaku finally breathed. “Usually it’s just a one-time thing every so often.”

Kuroo nodded and gestured to Bokuto as if saying: _see?_

Bo just rolled his eyes.

Kuroo smirked and put his hands behind his head once again. “Yeah, Yaku knows who to call when he wants a good time.”

Yaku sighed exasperatedly. “Your ego is too big for my bed.”

“You like it big.”

“ _Kuroo_.”

Bokuto laughed aloud - bent over and grabbed his sides in a mock imitation of Kuroo’s hardest laugh. He wiped a tear from his eye before straightening himself again. “Oh man...and here I thought this was going to be a problem.”

Kuroo went to say something, but Yaku beat him to it. “We’re fine, Bokuto. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

Bo just nodded and gave Yaku a soft smile. “That’s good to hear...Don’t want there to be any trouble between my friends.”

“Trouble? Nonsense, but you know,” Kuroo waved him away, “this means we don’t have to hide when we want sexy shower time after practice~”

Yaku kicked him. Hard.

Bo hooted out another round of laughter. “Just don’t get caught, yeah?” He clapped a hand to Kuroo’s shoulder, squeezed it slightly, before taking a few steps away from their little pow-wow.

“When have I ever gotten caught?” Kuroo gave him a lopsided grin, cocking his hip.

“Storage closet, bleachers, hallways, bathrooms -”

“Alright, alright,” Kuroo cut Yaku off before he could move onto a second set of fingers.

“Finish up out here,” Bo instructed before gesturing to the rest of the team with his chin. “We’re gonna start moving inside and do some quick drills before calling it today.”

Kuroo gave him a two-finger salute while Yaku simply nodded - his arms still crossed over his chest in irritation. They watched as Bokuto jogged off and started to round up those still on the track and the pitch. Sunday practice was usually shorter since it followed after matches from the weekend, but it was still practice. They honestly should be taking the day a little bit more seriously.

Yaku cleared his throat before sighing. Now that it was just the two of them, he seemed to relax just a bit. He looked up towards Kuroo beneath his strawberry fringe, fixing him a contemplative expression.

Kuroo raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Yaku shook his head, “just wasn’t expecting much of a conversation.”

“Oh? I’m quite the talker,” Kuroo smirked at him. “Everyone loves my mouth.”

Yaku rolled his eyes. “Not that, idiot. I mean,” he sighed again, “we already have a pattern - a plan. If we need the other while single, there’s no questions asked, right?”

Kuroo nodded. “Yeah. Nothing about that has changed.”

“Nothing’s changed...” he repeated softly. “You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure, Yaku. Wouldn’t I be the first one to know if something changed about _me_?”

“Doubt it.”

“Mean,” Kuroo stuck his tongue out at him. “What would have changed?”

Yaku stared at him carefully, weighing what he was going to say next. Though he had a hot-temper and Kuroo knew how to ignite that, he always seemed to control his phrasing around Kuroo.

“Well, last time I knew, you were exclusive.”

Kuroo blinked before laughing, clutching his sides. Was Yaku trying to be a stand-up comedian now? He was never exclusive with anyone. Kuroo didn’t date.

He never had a boyfriend.

“What’s so funny?” Yaku growled, placing his hands on his hips.

Wiping a tear, Kuroo managed to calm himself down before shaking his head. “You are, Morisuke. I was never exclusive with anyone.”

“You’re such a dumbass, Tetsurou.”

“Oi,” Kuroo poked Yaku in the cheek, leaning down to a more even height. “No need for the name calling.”

“Whatever,” Yaku brushed his hand away, rolling his eyes. If he didn’t want to acknowledge _that_ then there wasn’t much he could do. “Do what you want,” he told him, taking a few steps away.

Naturally, Kuroo followed Yaku as they walked back onto the track. Everyone was already back in the gymnasium by now. They were about halfway to their goal when Yaku decided to restart the conversation. He was going to try something one last time.

“How’s Kenma doing?”

Kuroo glanced down at the libero, taken off guard by the question. He managed to stop himself from automatically responding with a _he’s fine_ because Kuroo actually wasn’t too sure. The last he heard from Kenma was yesterday after the match when Kuroo announced that the team won. He got a short “congrats” and that was that. 

It felt off.

Even after that, he still continued to remind Kenma about eating, homework, and sleeping, but there had been no reply. It wasn’t their usual routine - though after the last few weeks perhaps this was going to be their new routine. Kuroo’s daily reminders would go unnoticed, ignored, and left on read without much word whether or not Kenma was still alive.

To save his sanity, Kuroo had texted Akaashi this morning before practice and asked if Kenma was alive. He knew it was ridiculous, but it just wasn’t like Kenma to not give some sort of answer. Thankfully, he can count on his best bro’s boyfriend because Akaashi agreed to help with “Kenma Watch.” It wasn’t ideal, but it was reassuring.

“Kuroo?”

Yaku had stopped walking and had grabbed Kuroo by the elbow, forcing him to stop too.

Blinking, Kuroo looked back down at his friend and shook his head. “I...don’t know to be honest. We, uh, haven’t been talking lately…”

“Oh?” Yaku’s face dropped slightly, concern masking his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“What? Yeah,” Kuroo gave a reluctant smile. “This is also Kenma, you know? He just needs some space.”

“Right,” Yaku nodded. “Space…”

Kuroo chuckled dryly and ruffled the top of Yaku’s head. “No need to be so worried, Morisuke. We both know that Kenma can get like this.”

“Mhm,” Yaku bit his tongue before speaking, “you know, you can come over if you ever need anything. My, uh, roommates are pretty much never there.”

“Convenient,” Kuroo smirked.

Yaku rolled his eyes before lightly kicking Kuroo’s leg, “Shut it. Just being nice, idiot.”

“I feel so honored,” Kuroo placed his hand over his heart.

Yaku glared at him a bit longer before stomping off towards the gym. “Hurry up! I’m sure we’ll have some drills to make up!”

Kuroo simply laughed at his flustered friend, but he had meant what he said. Yaku’s kindness meant a lot to him, and right now as he was being pushed away from his best friend, he could really use that kindness. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do next, but Kuroo didn’t think he could last much longer.

Kenma could be so cruel.

 

* * *

 

Bokuto could be cruel too.

Not only did he and Yaku have to make up the drills they had missed, but they were also the only ones to pack up the gym. And now, back at the apartment he shared with his best bro, they had a planned movie night instore - bros only of course - but Kuroo had been ditched yet again.

He was laying on the couch in the living room with some mind-numbing action movie being played on cable in the background. Kuroo had a bowl of popcorn settled on his stomach while his phone was laying on the floor beside him. Meanwhile, Bokuto and Akaashi were locked up in Bo’s room nearby and the more animated of the pair was clearly engaging in an exciting re-telling of practice.

It seemed Kuroo was just being pushed to the side by everyone lately.

Sighing, he simply plunged his hand back into the bowl and groaned when all he brought up was a handful of kernels. If he wanted more, he was going to have to get up and that definitely wasn’t happening.

It was getting a bit late at this point - just a little past ten at night - which meant Akaashi was most likely going to stay the night. That was fine and happened more often than not, but that left Kuroo to wallow in the living room alone. Looking at Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s bedroom door, the light was off, and Kuroo didn’t know when either would be home. Because of the couple’s hectic schedule, Sunday was usually reserved for date-night.

Understandable.

Replacing his empty popcorn bowl with his phone from the floor, Kuroo decided against his better judgement to scroll through social media. It was an automatic response drilled into his generation at this point. Don’t know what to do? Get lost in a virtual world where everything is presented as _fantastic_ or _perfect_.

The truth was: it wasn’t.

At least not Kuroo’s - not at the moment.

He tabbed his messages open, remembering a few conversation threads he could respond to. As he went down the list, Kuroo stopped at the thread with Kenma’s name. Staring at the blank _congrats_ that was the last response sent by Kenma, he thought about anything he could bring up that would entice his best friend into a conversation.

Kuroo started and stopped, erasing each time, before he huffed out a groan and let his phone rest on his chest. He pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes and applied a bit of pressure, dragging his fingers down his face in exasperation. 

Everyone was cruel.

“Iwa-chan is a jerk and we’re mad at him!”

Oikawa’s presence was immediate, shouting to whoever was in the apartment and not caring one iota about their neighbors.

“Oho?” Kuroo called from the couch, barely lifting his head to watch Oikawa drop his bag by the door after taking off his shoes. “Trouble in paradise?”

“You have no idea,” Oikawa pouted, shuffling over to the couch and without thinking curled up on Kuroo’s chest. The latter responding with a soft grunt. “You’ll be mad at him with me, right Tetsu-chan?” He lifted his chin so that their eyes locked.

Kuroo simply chuckled but nodded anyways. “Sure, Tooru, anything you want. Can I ask why though?”

“Iwa stood me up,” Oikawa sniffled.

Kuroo cocked an eyebrow at that. He knew Iwaizumi to be rather punctual and organized, so there had to be a catch.

“I waited at our usual place for forty-five minutes, Tetsu,” Oikawa explained, “and still _I_ had to be the one to call _him_ and ask if he was coming or not. He told me that he forgot and was working an extra shift at the clinic.”

Kuroo sympathetically winced before gently carding his hand through Oikawa’s hair. “I’m sorry, Tooru, but I’m sure Iwa didn’t mean to stand you up. You know what it’s like over at the clinic. He probably lost track of time.”

Oikawa puffed his cheeks out before releasing it all in a sigh, pressing his forehead to Kuroo’s chest. “I know but...it’s _Sunday_. We barely see each other as it is…”

“I know what you mean…”

Oikawa carefully lifted his head at that and looked at Kuroo. “I need a distraction.”

“Well, we could fuck.”

“Been there done that,” Oikawa shook his head. “That’s boring.”

“Mean.”

“Tell me something exciting,” a glint came to Oikawa’s eye at the transition. There was something hidden in his expression. “How are you, Tetsu-chan? Eating right? Doing your homework?”

Kuroo slowly blinked at him, keeping a deadpan expression - a familiar imitation of Akaashi. “What do you know?”

Rolling his eyes, Oikawa clicked his tongue at him. “If I knew anything, I wouldn’t be asking now, would I? So tell me. Meet anyone lately?”

There it was.

But unlike Kuroo slipping the information as he did with Bokuto earlier, Oikawa most likely knew from the start of this whole conversation. 

“Fuck you, you’re annoying,” Kuroo made a face at him. “If you already knew, why hide it?”

“Because this is more fun~”

“And there he is, ladies and gents,” Kuroo raised his voice a little louder as if presenting to an actual audience, “Shittykawa!”

“I’m the best, and you know it.” Oikawa stuck his tongue out at him.

“The best at being in other people’s business. How did you find out?”

“A little _birdy_ told me~”

“Suga was at the party, wasn’t he?”

“Exactly, now,” Oikawa readjusted himself, pressing his ear back to Kuroo’s chest, “tell me all about your rendezvous with destiny.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes yet again. It was an automatic response before giving in to whatever demands Oikawa Tooru had for him. He shifted slightly underneath Oikawa’s weight, feeling the cramped space of their too-small couch seep into his already sore muscles. As awkward as it was to cuddle with Oikawa - both long limbed individuals whose legs always dangled off at the knees no matter how they stretched out - on the couch, it was still comforting in a sense. He couldn’t help but to think of all the times he cuddled Kenma on this couch or the latter’s at his own apartment. 

Kenma was the perfect person to cuddle with. So long as you didn’t disturb whatever he was doing, he was complacent, and Kuroo would dare say that he enjoyed it. They used to just lay wherever, whenever. Kuroo would run his fingers through Kenma’s hair, never really giving much thought to it. He just liked the feel of how soft his best friend was. If Kenma didn’t like it, he would have told him so.

But that all felt like a lifetime ago.

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Kuroo hummed, absentmindedly dragging his fingers through Oikawa’s hair. “I was just with Yaku.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“Maybe...We have an arrangement, you know.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to see him, Tetsu,” Oikawa’s voice was softer than usual - his playful tone drifting out with every stroke through his hair.

Kuroo chuckled, shaking his tired roommate on top of him. “I know I don’t _have_ to, idiot, but if I want to, I know that I can.”

Raising his head, Oikawa made the effort to look at him again. “Do you want to?”

“Well...he is my friend, and the last time was -”

“No,” Oikawa interrupted and narrowed his eyes, “do you _want_ to?”

Kuroo blinked. Wasn’t that the same question? Yaku was one of his good distractions lately and actually helped clear his head for a couple of days. Maybe spending a bit more time with him wasn’t such a bad idea.

Oikawa groaned and plopped his head back down on Kuroo’s chest. “God, you’re so insufferable sometimes.”

“Hey, who’s the one you’re angry at again?” Kuroo hummed, cocking an eyebrow. “Let’s focus back on that.”

“I’m surrounded,” he whined into Kuroo’s shoulder.

Kuroo would admit that he wasn’t wrong in saying that, but they were all impossible in their own ways - which made it all the more reason why they could room together. Similar creatures were known to flock together. It was like having your own personal support group or posse when times got tough.

And they certainly were tough.

_Ding!_

Kuroo fished around for his phone that had fallen between him and the couch after Oikawa’s appearance. He had to stifle back a surprised “oh?” when he saw whom the message was from.

 

**From Kitten:**  
_Do I have to go to class tomorrow?_  
[22:23]

**To Kitten:**  
_ofc_  
wait  
you’ve been going to class  
right???  
[22:24]

**From Kitten:**  
_Yes, Kuroo._  
[22:26]

**To Kitten:**  
_oi_  
there was a pause (^=˃ᆺ˂)  
[22:26]

**From Kitten:**  
_I put my phone down_  
[22:27]

**To Kitten:**  
_LIAR_  
LIAR PANTS ON FIRE!!! ٩(ↀДↀ)۶  
[22:27]

 

Oikawa shifted on top of Kuroo, moving to sit on the couch now rather than sprawl on top of his roommate. Kuroo wasn’t really bothered by the movement - too caught up in what felt like an actual conversation for the first time in months. Anyone else wouldn’t think much of the interaction, but it was the opposite for Kuroo who was practically keening as his phone would buzz in another message from Kenma.

“You gonna share with the class?”

Kuroo hummed a weak questioning tone, not looking up from his exchange and barely processing what Oikawa asked.

“What’s got you so giddy?” Oikawa tried teasing, tickling Kuroo’s feet that were now resting on his lap.

That got Kuroo’s attention because fuck Tooru knew just how ticklish he was.

“Stop, stop,” Kuroo laughed, nearly chucking his phone to get Oikawa to obey. “It’s just Kenma, Jesus Christ,” he scurried into an upright position and quickly brought his knees up to his chest in an attempt at shielding his defenseless feet.

Oikawa simply smirked at him, running a hand through his own hair. “Oh? That’s nice.”

Kuroo just nodded as he sent another response along the lines of Tooru’s being mean again with a save-me-please emoji.

“Well, this was great and all,” Oikawa sighed and moved to stand up, stretching his cramped appendages with slight popping sounds. They all sounded like old men whenever they stretched. “Since I’m playing old maid tonight, I might as well go to bed.”

“Sounds good.” Kuroo responded automatically.

Oikawa cocked an eyebrow. “Or I could take you up on that offer.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yup,” Oikawa shook his head, “insufferable.” He sighed before heading to his bedroom, throwing the lights on, and quickly closing the door.

Kuroo lifted his head and blinked when the door was shut. Shrugging, he returned to his conversation.

 

**From Kitten:**  
_That sounds like a lot of work._  
[22:38]

**To Kitten:**  
_I think Oikawa wanted smth_  
[22:40]

**From Kitten:**  
_Tooru always wants something._  
What was it this time?  
[22:41]

**To Kitten:**  
_idk_ ( ⓛ ω ⓛ *)  
[22:41]

**From Kitten:**  
_You’re hopeless_  
[22:41]

**To Kitten:**  
_not if I have youuuuu_ ლ(=ↀωↀ=)ლ  
[22:42]

**From Kitten:**  
_You’re right._  
So don’t lose me.  
Otherwise you’re screwed.  
[22:44]

 

Kuroo swallowed at reading that. These last two months - almost three - were practically unbearable without his best friend around. If anything were to happen to Kenma, Kuroo honestly wouldn’t know how to function. He was already going mad not being able to see him because of schoolwork. What if…

Nope.

Kuroo was not going to even think of anything else. Whenever his mind would drift to those “what if” possibilities of a world without Kenma, he would simply drop it and think of something else. Usually homework and practice helped with that aspect, but who knew how much longer those would be able last.

 

**To Kitten:**  
_hey, when was the last time you ate?_  
[22:47]

**From Kitten:**  
. . . .  
[22:48]

**To Kitten:**  
_Kenma, I s2g if you say yesterday_  
I’m marching over there and confiscating all of your video games  
[22:49]

**From Kitten:**  
_Fine. I won’t say anything._  
[22:50]

**To Kitten:**  
_KOZUME KENMA_ (*Φ皿Φ*)  
_That’s it._  
We’re getting food.  
NO EXCUSES (^･o･^)ﾉ”  
[22:52]

**From Kitten:**  
_Where?_  
[22:55]

 

Kuroo sucked in a breath and held it.

Kenma agreed to get food with him. 

He was going to see Kenma actually face to face for the first time in almost three months, and his chest felt like it was going to explode. Warmth immediately flooded his cheeks at the thought. Even when he was a first year university student and Kenma was still in high school, they saw each other on a more regular basis than now. In fact, this was probably the longest they had ever gone without seeing the other since the beginning of their friendship.

Quickly, Kuroo typed in their usual late-night diner rush. Being a college student had perks such as having access to nearly 24-hour food services. 

Springing to his feet, Kuroo went to his bedroom to change into slightly warmer clothes - having been lounging around in his usual boxers and t-shirt get-up. He put on jeans and a black hoodie with a comical cat’s face that looked similar to his own. His hair was mussed up from laying on the couch, but that wasn’t a big deal. He simply ran his fingers through his hair, and everything righted itself back to normal.

Kuroo didn’t bother to say anything to either of his roommates since both were busy anyways, but he did scribble on their kitchen whiteboard saying that he was heading out. Iwa would be home soon, and if that message wasn’t there, Kuroo knew he would ask and then no one would know where he was. The last thing he wanted was a disruption from overly concerned roommates.

Kenma deserved his full attention.

A small part of him wanted to question that last part, but overall, every ounce of his being was abuzz with excitement to notice how that could have been taken. Any other thought was quickly thrown out the window as he slipped on his shoes, checked for his essentials, and locked the door behind him as he left the apartment. All that was keeping him and Kenma apart now was a ten minute train ride and three city blocks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...so no _physical_ this chapter, but I s2g that he'll be here next chapter and I'll give you guys _something_ for all of this patience! I really wanted to show the friends w/ benefits relationship a bit more with Kuroo and Yaku as well as give y'all that _hint, hint_ foreshadowing for a future chapter~ And once again, I throw in another Kuroo ship though def in a platonic sense at this point in their relationship! (I do love me some OiKuro tho) (^・ω・^ )
> 
> Next chapter: late-night dinner date with Kenma??? Tune in next time!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He and Kenma were due for a long talk, and Kuroo wanted to know what he was thinking about. What was keeping them separated this semester?_
> 
> _The kind of talk you couldn’t have over the phone._

It was a twelve minute train ride and four city blocks. The usual station was shut down temporarily for repairs, so the train had to go one stop further. That meant Kuroo had to walk an extra block, but it could have been worse.

Living in the city meant living in another world. No one ever slept, and the day of the week never really meant much. Despite it being Sunday nearing midnight, there were plenty of people out and about - though only diners and some entertainment establishments were open. It was actually perfect because the life of a university student was chaotic. Plenty of times Kuroo had found himself eating dinner at three in the morning because that was when he had the time. And that was how they found this place.

During one semester, Kuroo had put in extra time at the chemistry labs on campus since it was off-season for the team, and he wanted to focus on some major requirements before the next semester. Because of this, he often called up Kenma on FaceTime while he was writing reports or cleaning up. They could sit in silence for all either one cared but knowing someone was on the other line was comforting. It was during one of these moments where _Kenma_ was the one to push _Kuroo_ into eating, to which Kuroo managed to get Kenma to come out and also eat.

That had been the discovery of _their_ place.

It was a popular spot for students, and Kuroo often studied there instead of the apartment or the library; but when Kenma joined him, it was theirs.

Kuroo currently stood outside of the shop, leaning against the wide-set window that peered into the cramped space inside. The door chimed as customers went in and out and added a faint pulse to the nightlife that passed by him. He scrolled through his phone as he waited, though it seemed time decided to teasingly tick at a snail’s pace.

There was a hum buzzing under his skin - maybe it was excitement or maybe it was nerves, but either way, it was keeping him overtly alert. Kuroo tried to conceal his restlessness by tapping his foot, but that was definitely the opposite of being inconspicuous. The longer he stayed waiting the more aware he was of the blood pounding in his ears or the erratic heartbeat drumming in his chest.

Going so long without Kenma was clearly bad on his health. Kuroo was finally realizing that it wasn’t just Kenma who needed Kuroo’s little reminders or overall nurturing outlook, but the reverse could also be said. Kuroo needed Kenma’s little jabs and general presence - a little touch of reality in his otherwise currently chaotic life.

Kenma had been his constant for as long as he could remember.

And thinking about that only made Kuroo more impatient. He and Kenma were due for a long talk, and Kuroo wanted to know what he was thinking about. What was keeping them separated this semester?

The kind of talk you couldn’t have over the phone.

Pulling up his conversation with Kenma, Kuroo was about to text a _“where are you?”_ when he was beaten to the punch.

 

**From Kitten:**  
 _We’re a block away._  
[23:28]

 

Kuroo blinked at the message before scrolling up in the conversation thread to double check he didn’t misread what was sent.

“We…?” He muttered to himself, perplexed by the choice in autocorrect. 

It had to have been a technological error. He and Kenma didn’t mention anything about anyone else joining. It was supposed to be the two of them.

“OOOOIIIII!”

Kuroo looked up at the boisterous caw from the corner of the block. Where he was excited and nervous just a moment ago, everything sunk to the pit of his stomach. He saw the approaching sunburnt mop of hair and erratically waving arms trying to further reach Kuroo’s attention. Trailing right behind him was none other than Kenma - black hair tied back into a low ponytail and wearing an oversized sweatshirt.

Kuroo narrowed his eyes, shooting his best friend a glare that would make normal men flinch. Kenma, however, simply blinked back unflinching.

“Hey, Kuroo!” Hinata’s smile was blinding.

Snap out of it. 

Kuroo had to just shrug it off because what else was there to do?

Pulling on his most natural smile, Kuroo leaned back against the shop window and crossed his arms over his chest. He could feel how fake the expression must have looked on his face, but it was either that or an outright scowl. He wasn’t happy about this whole third-wheel situation.

“What’s up, Chibi-chan?” Kuroo reached out to ruffle Hinata’s head when the younger man was close enough.

Hinata took a step back and puffed his cheeks out, trying to fix the mussier mess of his hair. “Hey!”

Kuroo forced a laugh at Hinata’s expense. There was something twisting in his gut, and he definitely wasn’t liking this already. “Sorry, sorry, but I just couldn’t help myself.”

He knew the kid didn’t like people messing with his hair. Kuroo knew this, and yet, whatever he could do to annoy the ball of sunshine was itching just under his skin. He really couldn’t help himself.

Hinata gave him a slight look before shaking his head and stuffing his hands into his pockets. The smile returned to his face, which only made Kuroo taste a bitterness in his mouth. “That’s okay! It’s been a while, huh?”

Kuroo never had a problem with Hinata before. Sure, he was high energy and easily excited by everything, but some of his best friends were the same way. And there was something magnetic about him that always dragged people close - like the sun, things just seemed to gravitate around him. But in the last couple of months, Kuroo continued to get irritated whenever he came up on his social media feed or answered messages for Kenma.

Even now, Kuroo was feeling an overwhelming sense of agitation.

“Kuroo.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, he finally heard that voice. So familiar and so close. His chest squeezed at hearing his own name, and he wanted to hear it again.

Immediately, Kuroo’s eyes flicked over to Kenma. His voice sounded a little strained, but there was no denying the slight scolding tone in his name. He didn’t think Kenma knew exactly what he was doing or feeling, but the simple inflection managed to rein him in.

Kenma always managed to keep him seated in the moment.

“Man, I’m starving!” Hinata exclaimed, stepping past Kuroo to enter the shop.

Kuroo pushed himself off the building’s wall and stuffed his own hands into his pockets, slouching his shoulders as he stepped beside Kenma. He bent his head down so that he could lower his voice upon entering the shop. “Brought a pet?”

“He was hungry,” Kenma shrugged, remaining indifferent of the tease.

“Obviously,” Kuroo grunted, looking over at the counter where Hinata placed his order.

Kenma was finally here with him, but everything was wrong. What he wanted to talk about was now thrown out the window with Hinata tagging along. They ordered their food and went to sit down at the same booth with their third-wheel - Kenma taking a seat beside his roommate rather than next to his long-time best friend.

He felt his chest squeeze again, though it was for a different reason. Had this been anyone else, Kuroo would have commented, teased, poked fun of the situation - saying something along the lines of _“Leave room for Jesus,”_ or _“Whatever happens under the table, stays under the table.”_ But the words were caught in his throat.

Instead, Kuroo leaned back on his side of the booth, hooking his elbows along the back of his seat. He simply looked at the other two in front of him and concentrated on his breathing - that hyperfixation helping to ground himself. Hinata clearly looked nervous - his hands folded on top of the table and a slight shake to his leg underneath. Kenma remained impassive as always, meeting Kuroo’s scrutinized gaze with his own apathetic stare.

Anyone who passed by would be able to feel the tension at the table.

“Soooo,” Hinata cleared his throat, looking between the two friends before directing his attention to Kuroo across from him, “how’s the season going for you, Kuroo? Heard you guys were in the top five this year!”

Kuroo nodded slowly, trying to drag himself out whatever moody pit he’d plunged into. This wasn’t him. “You heard right, Chibi-chan. Heading to prelims next month.”

“Wow! That must be so exciting!” Hinata’s eyes sparkled. “Are you looking at playing professionally too?”

“If I get recruited,” Kuroo shrugged. “If not, I’m applying to grad schools. It’s all a waiting game at this point…”

Kenma let out a sigh and pulled his phone from his pocket, slipping into his own distraction.

Kuroo noticed every little movement and felt both comforted seeing Kenma slip back into old habits as well as disgruntled that this meant he was stuck in a conversation with Hinata all alone. This wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.

Shifting in his seat, Kuroo leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table, letting his chin drop to one of his palms. He let his smirk slide over his facade, resting a bit easier with an idea in place. If Kenma wasn’t going to pay attention to him, he was sure to turn that around in a matter of seconds.

“What about you, Sho?” Kuroo purred the nickname, only using it when he wanted something out of the kid. “Heard your team lost in the qualifiers. You didn’t even get to start, hm?”

Hinata flushed at the nickname - his neck darkening slightly while his ears stuck out with the most color. As much as the little giant had grown in volleyball, rumor had it that he wasn’t a starting player on his team. At first Kuroo had thought it was a coincidence when he first faced off against Hinata’s school, but now with the shrimp in his second year, it wasn’t much of a rumor. 

Kuroo knew it was a low blow, but he had caught a glimpse of Kenma’s stare again out of the corner of his eye. Teasing Hinata was always a soft spot with his kitten.

“We have a couple of practice games coming up,” Hinata managed to spit out. His fists clenched together and there was a determined glint to his eye as he concentrated on the salt shaker. “Coach is putting me on first string for them, and I’ll be sure to show them.”

“You mean, you haven’t done that already?” Kuroo quirked an eyebrow at him. “It’s your second year, Chibi-chan, are you sure you’re even still in their line of sight?”

Hinata’s shoulders slumped slightly. He wasn’t one known for having confidence issues - always plastering a positive outlook on everything - but Kuroo knew that comment hit home.

But that was just the facts.

Players who were often benched or barely played were reserved for games that didn’t matter. It was as if the coach was saying they had lost interest. Hard to believe Hinata Shouyou of all people was facing this problem, but with this foul mood Kuroo was in, he was willing to exploit the open wound.

“Of course I am!” Hinata was quick to defend himself. Not unexpected. “I just need one chance and I’m sure Coach will put me in the first string next semester.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Chibi-chan,” Kuroo condescended, “but if they haven’t used you by now, you should just move down to club.”

Hinata’s eyes widened as his mouth opened slightly. There was a brief second of satisfaction that washed over Kuroo, but it was immediately followed with horror.

What the fuck was he saying? Kuroo couldn’t even stop himself. Sure, he’d been annoyed with Hinata recently, but never once in his life would he have suggested for someone as passionate and dedicated to the same sport to just give up.

What the hell was wrong with him?

“I...” Hinata started then stopped, clenching his hands in his lap now as he looked away.

Kuroo didn’t dare look at Kenma. He could feel the man’s eyes on him, causing his skin to prickle under the heated glare he knew was being thrown his way. He had wanted Kenma’s eyes on him but not like this.

“I’ve...thought about that,” Hinata’s voice came out quiet and wavering, “but...I can’t just give up, you know? Volleyball makes me feel...feel like _guwah_ ,” he accentuated the sound by opening up his hands and looking directly at Kuroo now, “so I can’t just stop feeling that, you know? I would have more regrets if I just quit instead of trying everything.”

Fuck.

Hinata lifted his head and righted his chin so that he regained that confidence he always exuberated. “That’s why I’m gonna use these practice games and show everyone I’m not done. I’ll win them over!”

Guilt.

It was a horrible emotion really - only followed after doing something horrible in return. Kuroo knew what he was doing when he said those things. He had even felt content with the reactions, but now, he felt sick.

Ah, how easy this was to wash over him. Kuroo had versed the baby bird head-on a few times, and every single time, he lost. Squashing out the sun was impossible. And this time was no different.

Kuroo’s expression softened for a moment as he looked at Hinata. “I’m sure you will,” he admitted quietly, nearly sighing. 

“Thanks, Kuroo!” Hinata beamed at him. Quick to forgive as always - even if he didn’t know what Kuroo said was intentional or not.

Fairing a glance to Kenma, he saw how he was being ignored. Kenma’s entire upper body was turned away, burying his attention into his phone, but Kuroo could see the white-knuckled grip he was clenching his device with. Hinata was easy to win over; however, Kenma was a different story.

So that plan certainly wasn’t going to work. Instead, he was going to have to go for a more direct approach.

“So you’ve been doing any extra practicing?” Kuroo asked, keeping on subject. If he could get him to ramble, something useful was bound to pop up.

“Yeah! Kageyama and I have been staying back after practice the last couple of weeks. He’s got so much work to do, but he’s still willing to toss to me.”

“Have you considered asking Akaashi to toss? I’m sure he’d help with your extra practice.”

“Nah, Akaashi-san is too busy.”

“What about Kenma?”

At the mention of Kenma, Kuroo noticed the man fidget in his seat, shifting his phone in his hands. Since starting university, Kenma had barely stepped foot on the courts. Kuroo had asked early on for some tosses, seeing that itch come across whenever Kenma would visit him after practice. There wasn’t a doubt that Kenma liked volleyball, but there wasn’t much of a goal with it. He never had the desire to do it professionally like Bo or Kuroo, but once in a while, there was a look of longing - a similar look of nostalgia he would have when coming across a video game he and Kuroo used to play when they were kids.

“Oh, no,” Hinata chuckled lightly, shaking his head, “Kenma doesn’t want to toss to me no matter how much I beg.”

“Huh,” Kuroo inhaled slowly, holding it for a moment before releasing it altogether, “is that so?”

_Ding!_

There was a vibration in Kuroo’s pocket, causing him to pull out his phone and glance at the sender of the text.

 

**From Kitten:**  
 _Be nice._  
[23:45]

 

Relief flooded through him. At least Kenma was going to talk to him. He had thought his little spout with Hinata would have ruined things.

Kuroo looked across the table at Kenma and smirked.

 

**To Kitten:**  
 _I’m always nice~_ (*ΦωΦ*)  
[23:46]

 

“I’m okay with Kageyama, though,” Hinata continued with the conversation. “He can be mean and strict and his face is scary still, but that’s just Kageyama! In fact, the other day he -”

 

**From Kitten:**  
 _You weren’t being nice a minute ago._  
[23:46]

**To Kitten:**  
 _well, excuse me  
didn’t know mr. sunshine was gonna be tagging along_  
[23:47]

**From Kitten:**  
 _Never said he couldn’t.  
That’s on you._  
[23:48]

**To Kitten:**  
 _I didn’t know that was a possibility!!_  
[23:48]

**From Kitten:**  
 _Still doesn’t give you the right to be an ass._  
[23:49]

 

“- but you know I miss being on the same court as him,” Hinata’s voice popped back into focus. “That’s why I _really_ want to be on first string! He’s hogging all of the fun.”

Kuroo blinked as he looked back up from his phone. Clearly the shrimp hadn’t noticed no one at the table had been paying attention to him. 

“That sucks, Chibi-chan,” Kuroo sighed, glancing over at Kenma who simply stared back at him. “Must be difficult not standing on the same side, huh?”

“Tell me about it,” Hinata pouted, crossing his arms and legs on his side of the booth and deflating.

Kuroo snorted. Something just felt ironically hilarious about that statement.

“What’s so funny, Kuroo?” Kenma’s quiet, even voice cut through his laughter. He tilted his head slightly, causing a few strands of black hair to fall in his eyes.

Looking at Kenma, Kuroo could feel his laughter choke off before he shook his head. Nothing was particularly funny per say, but at the same time, it was fucking hilarious. He had set his sights on unnerving the literal sun in front of him and only ended up burned - relating to the cause of his recent irritation. Of course, neither would find it as funny as he did.

How could they? It barely made sense to Kuroo.

But there was he was laughing at the shrimp for relating to his own personal hell. Oh, he could tell you all about it - sure. But where to start? 

Last week?

Two months ago?

A year ago?

No matter which date he chose to bring up first, Kuroo still wouldn’t know how to explain himself. Talking through those kinds of emotions didn’t come easy, especially since he was unsure of what those emotions were. Despite wanting to talk to Kenma - the one person in the entire world he could throw his problems at - Kuroo knew he wasn’t ready after all.

Maybe it was too soon to be having that conversation.

“Nothing, nothing,” Kuroo waved both pairs of eyes away, “I think I’m sleep deprived.”

“Sounds like Kenma,” Hinata noted. “He hasn’t been sleeping well lately either.”

“Shouyou,” Kenma directed a scolding tone towards his roommate now, narrowing his eyes in a silent threat.

Kuroo frowned at that. He hated when Kenma’s insomnia flared up. It always caused more problems than solved them. “Kenma…”

The latter looked in Kuroo’s direction before quickly snapping his head to the side, redirecting his attention anywhere else but Kuroo’s face. His lips were pulled into a tight line and tension was strung all through the muscles in his neck. His insomnia was never a sore subject to cause this type of reaction, but there was something tied to it that clearly caused him aggravation.

Hinata looked between the pair and chewed on his bottom lip. After a moment of silence, he decided he needed to use the bathroom and quickly got up from the table.

Kuroo had to admit that he was more perceptive than he let on.

“You’re not sleeping?”

“Everything’s fine.”

“How long?”

“Kuroo.”

“How long, Kenma?” Kuroo sat firm, locking eyes with him. He knew how stubborn his childhood friend could be, but Kuroo could combat him with his own persistence. 

Kenma simply remained silent, bringing his knees up to his chest as he made himself smaller in the booth. The oversized sweatshirt provided security as he practically hid himself with it. Kuroo stared at him, observing the purse of his lips while he thought, and not once but twice he caught Kenma rake his slender fingers through the loose strands of hair behind his ear.

“Kenma, look I’m -”

“Two months.”

Kuroo blinked at the interruption, almost not having heard his answer. “Two months?”

Just about at the start of the semester. That was also when his communication with Kenma had become limited. No matter how much he reached out, he barely got a response back. If that was caused because of Kenma’s insomnia, well, that didn’t make much sense. Kuroo would have been receiving way more text messages than what he was getting. He had always been Kenma’s distraction.

“On and off,” Kenma nodded, carefully glancing at Kuroo from under his bangs. “Almost three.”

Kenma was anything but fragile. Sure, he didn’t exercise as much anymore, but the last time Kuroo saw him, he still had muscle. He had substance. But looking at him now, it was the first Kuroo could see how...small he appeared. His eyes were sunken in just a bit more than usual with a ring of dark circles underneath, and though he used his hair to hide, there was no disregarding his chapped lips - having been bitten raw with an unknown worry.

Kuroo wanted desperately to reach and pull Kenma into his arms. Every instinct yelled at him to protect his best friend - even from himself. But he remained in his seat, glued there by one thought alone.

No matter what was keeping Kenma up at night, Kuroo would have been the first to know about it.

If he didn’t know anything of this, that meant Kuroo...was the problem.

“Is that why…?” He trailed off on the thought, not wanting to finish what went unsaid between them.

“Kuroo -”

“Wow, it sure is getting late!”

Both Kenma and Kuroo whipped their heads up to see Hinata standing at the end of the table with his hands on his hips. He was still grinning that blinding smile as if he just hadn’t walked in on the palpable tension between the two friends. 

His timing sure was impeccable.

“Shouyou’s right.” Kenma nodded quickly and slipped out of the booth.

Kuroo frowned at that. He knew the trains would be stopping soon, but he was willing to risk the long walk back if it meant he and Kenma could talk more. It had been so long, and he just wanted to know more of what was going on.

He wanted confirmation.

“We need to talk, Kenma,” Kuroo told him seriously.

Kenma simply looked at him as if to say: _later._

At least their developed telepathy was still somewhat intact.

“Bye, Kuroo! Let’s do this again soon,” Hinata waved at him before taking Kenma by the hand and leading him out of the shop.

With the pair now out of sight, Kuroo simply sat there in the booth. Alone. He felt as if the world had been stripped away from him. All he had wanted was to see Kenma in person, and though he got that, it wasn’t enough. This wasn’t _his_ Kenma.

It seemed a lot had happened in the last couple of months.

Kuroo should have acted sooner - should have forced himself over to their apartment sooner - should have done _anything_ other than ignore that part of his brain. How could he have let his best friend face whatever this was alone? Since they were seven, Kuroo had been there for Kenma just like Kenma had always been there for him. How could he be so neglectful after everything they had been through?

This was his fault.

Stupid.

He was _fucking_ stupid.

_Ding!_

 

**From Kitten:**  
 _I’m sorry._  
[00:07]

 

Kuroo took in a wavering breath as he read the simple text message. Kenma was the one apologizing? He wanted to laugh at the massive amounts of irony being thrown at him tonight. What the hell did he do to deserve all of this?

 

**To Kitten:**  
 _you don’t have anything to apologize for_  
[00:09]

**From Kitten:**  
 _Don’t beat yourself up over this.  
Whoever said it was your fault?_  
[00:11]

**To Kitten:**  
 _but it is  
my fault  
I should have done something sooner_  
[00:13]

**From Kitten:**  
 _And what would you have done?  
Insomnia doesn’t just go away.  
I’ll be fine Kuroo._  
[00:16]

 

Kuroo knew that was a lie. Kenma needed distractions when his insomnia flared, hence the multiple video game marathons or late night binge watching. No one knew these cures better than Kuroo - at least, no one used to. Everyone knew about the marathons or binge watching, but did they know the right games or shows that would mentally exhaust the insomniac?

No.

Only Kuroo could do that. He had been doing it for at least fifteen years now. _He_ was the Kenma expert.

 

**From Kitten:**  
 _What I was trying to say was…  
I’m sorry for not being around this semester.  
I want to make it up to you._  
[00:22]

 

Kuroo blinked. “Make it up to me…? Fucking,” he grumbled as he quickly typed back a response.

 

**To Kitten:**  
 _you don’t have to do shit_ (^._.^)ﾉ  
 _I’ll do something for you!_ ヽ(ΦωΦヽ)  
[00:25]

**From Kitten:**  
 _If that will make you feel better._  
[00:25]

**To Kitten:**  
 _yessssssss_ (=ↀωↀ=)✧  
[00:26]

**From Kitten:**  
 _Fine.  
But don’t take forever.  
The semester is almost over and you might lose your chance._  
[00:28]

**To Kitten:**  
 _don’t worry_  
this will make up for everything!! (●ↀωↀ●)  
[00:30]

 

Kuroo looked down at his own text and internally cursed. He was so quick to want everything to be right again that he had promised something even he wasn’t sure of what. How was he going to make everything up?

That was his nature, though. Kuroo was known for taking on all the blame and responsibility. He’d done it since they were kids and extended it far into his young adulthood. And when everything rested on his shoulders, he knew he was bound to screw up something somehow.

“I’m going to fix this,” he told himself quietly, rising from the booth. “I don’t know how...but dammit I’m gonna fix it.”

With that promise etched into his heart, Kuroo left the shop and began to make his way to the train station. The last train ran at one, so he had plenty of time to get there. That was what he had to remind himself.

He had plenty of time to get home.

Plenty of time to think.

Plenty of time left to repair the opening fissure in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jealous Kuroo reminds me of a cat staring at you as they push the glass of water off the table. He wants a reaction - any kind of reaction - but in the end, he'll try and suck up to you for any type of forgiveness.
> 
> Just a reminder of the "slow burn" tag! Yes, I finally gave some Kenma interaction, but Hinata totally overpowered the scene here. I wanted to dive a little more into jealous Kuroo >.> And yes, I will give some backstory soon that will clear up some of the ooc interactions! I will also be switching some POVs around too, so y'all can better see from an outside perspective of what is going on~
> 
> Thank you all for reading thus far! All of the kudos and comments are very appreciative! Stick with me a bit longer, and I promise I'll make everything up to you~ ლ(●ↀωↀ●)ლ


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Nothing made sense anymore._
> 
>  
> 
> _But when did it_ stop _making sense?_
> 
>  
> 
> _Not missing a beat, he opened up their conversation thread and immediately messaged:_
> 
>  
> 
> _< _We need to talk __  
> [23:22]

**[22:18] Friday**

 

Lips bruised against each other. 

Teeth clacked together.

There was pressure weighing on his chest.

All week, Kuroo had wanted to talk to somebody about his late-night-third-wheel rendezvous with Kenma and Hinata, but no one had been around. Classes, work, practice, and just poor timing had kept him from cornering his roommates - his first line of advising. If he couldn’t capture one of them, well, there was no hope with anyone else. So he had waited until Friday night when he knew at least one person was free.

Yaku shifted on top of him, rolling his hips and purring in his own chest.

Yaku had told him that his roommates were always away during the weekends, so Kuroo knew that this was the perfect opportunity. He had waited the whole week to tell _someone_ what was on his mind. 

He just hadn’t had the chance yet to say it.

Kuroo’s body responded automatically, pushing up to meet Yaku’s hips while his hands slipped under his shirt - mapping out the curve of Yaku’s spine and feeling each knot in his back. Doing this caused Yaku to shudder, breaking away on a gasp and rapidly blinking his eyes. He looked down at Kuroo - his resolve seemed to be focused on one thing.

When Kuroo had arrived at Yaku’s apartment, he hadn’t been expecting the sudden pull into the place. Yaku was always demanding and bossy, but this was a different underlying dominance. Maybe something happened during the week and he just needed some relief? Kuroo could understand that, which was why he didn’t stop.

Two birds. One stone.

Yaku dove back down to continue his assault on Kuroo’s mouth, though he didn’t linger long and began to trail bites along his jaw and neck. Again, Kuroo reacted automatically by releasing a sigh and lifting his head aside to give the smaller man more room to work with. He tried to focus on the needle-prickling pain from each bite, digging his fingers into Yaku’s lower back, but it wasn’t enough to override his thoughts tonight.

For someone as average height as Yaku - Kuroo wondered - he sure had a lot of bigger furniture.

Yup, _this_ was what his mind decided to focus on.

Furniture.

Maybe it was because of his roommates - Kuroo humored the passing thought - which would have been a logical assumption, but Kuroo had a different idea in mind. See, they had been on the same volleyball team since high school where height dominated a good portion of the game. It wasn’t that Yaku was uncommonly short because in all actuality he wasn’t; it was the fact he was surrounded by all uncommonly tall people.

The norm seemed to have always been shifted for Yaku.

All of Kuroo’s roommates, himself included, were tall, and yet neither of them could fully stretch out on their own sofa in the living room. Limbs were always cast over the edge left to die and become weighted upon getting up again. At Yaku’s apartment, not only could Kuroo stretch out on the couch comfortably with Yaku pinning him against the polyester, but he could also find leverage to push up and react to all of his teasing.

The giant furniture was very...convenient.

Convenient in the sense that Yaku spent a good amount of time with a very particularly tall protege. 

“Yaku…?” Kuroo panted, feeling the man suck a rather deep hickey onto his collarbone. That was going to be there tomorrow for sure. 

Yaku hummed before raising his head, meeting Kuroo’s own hazy gaze. He looked absolutely predatory, licking his lips but humoring the interruption.

“Are you...and Lev still talking?”

Yaku stiffened on top of Kuroo, his eyes widening slightly and his mouth pulling into a tight line. He took a few deep breaths before his shoulders loosened ever so slowly, and he narrowed his eyes to question Kuroo’s thought. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I was just thinking,” Kuroo made an indiscernible wave with his hand, “that you have a lot of...big furniture, and last time I checked, you said you pretty much have the apartment to yourself...So if your roommates aren’t as tall as half Russian volleyball players, this would be pretty odd.”

“No,” Yaku pinched him, “what’s odd here is the fact you are trying to cock block yourself, Kuroo.” Shaking his head and sighing, he added, “I’m just...giving him some space.”

Kuroo propped himself up on his elbows and held his stare with Yaku. Perhaps they should have discussed things a bit more before jumping back into this arrangement. Kuroo didn’t want to be used as some rebound, revenge, or relief from any fallout between his friends.

That was off-limits.

“It’s not like you’re one to talk,” Yaku added. “Isn’t that what you do too?”

“Me?” Kuroo blinked.

“Don’t play dumb, Kuroo.” Yaku crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ve done the same thing to everyone you’ve gotten close to. You create space.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Kai, Daichi, Oikawa, Tsu -”

“Okay,” Kuroo cut him off and narrowed his eyes, “okay...I get it. But that was all different from what you’re doing.” He cleared his throat and pressed a hand to his own chest, dramatically. “I was being selfless in giving them space to be with their one true loves~”

Yaku rolled his eyes.

“But you,” Kuroo’s voice grew sincere, “you’re being selfish.”

Yaku went rigid again.

“Either way, Morisuke, you don’t really want to lose him.” Kuroo reached up and touched Yaku’s cheek, rubbing his thumb in a circular motion and smiling fondly at him. “You two should talk…”

Yaku melted into the tenderness Kuroo was showing him, pushing his palms into his eyes and groaning. “I know...I know…” He sighed, dragging his hands down his face. “And what about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” Kuroo chuckled lightly. “Plenty of other fish in the sea, so they say.”

“That’s not what I meant, idiot.”

Kuroo blinked, tilting his head to the side. “What…?”

“Have you talked to _him_?”

“Lev?”

“No.”

Kuroo frowned at that. He hadn’t done enough talking all these months with anybody. The one person he could talk to had ignored him, and no one else had time to listen.

“I talked with Kenma on Sunday.”

Yaku blinked, surprised. “And…?”

Kuroo huffed and fell back against the couch cushions. He looked up at the ceiling and rubbed one of his eyes. This was what he wanted to talk about all week. 

Now was his chance.

“Well...we didn’t talk about much because Kenma had brought Hinata with him.”

Yaku remained silent, and when Kuroo glanced at him, he seemed contemplative. He was waiting for Kuroo to continue.

And that’s what Kuroo did. He broke the whole night down to Yaku as the latter listened intently - not once interrupting him. Kuroo admitted to his shitty behavior and how it just took over his judgement. He knew it had been immature and wrong, but Kuroo also confessed how long he’d been feeling that way since being practically cut off by Kenma. Kuroo even added his concern for Kenma’s insomnia, which Yaku would be able to empathize with since he’d witnessed first hand how that interfered with Kenma’s academic performance. He was able to come clean about the whole encounter, ending with the promise to make everything right again.

“But...I don’t know what to do,” Kuroo sighed, slinging his arm over his face in exasperation.

Yaku had gotten up during Kuroo’s retelling to make them both a cup of tea. Kuroo’s cup remained untouched on the coffee table while Yaku sat at the other end of the couch sipping his own. He had endured the whole story, never once stepping over Kuroo’s opportunity to talk.

“I see,” he nodded knowingly. “Can I ask you something?”

Kuroo managed to pull himself up into a sitting position and nodded. He reached over and grabbed his cup. He wasn’t a big tea drinker, but something about having it in this moment was soothing. He just felt exhausted lately.

“We’ve had this arrangement for...seven years now, right?” Yaku cocked an eyebrow at him, taking another sip of his tea. “In all of those seven years, have you ever seen this relationship going any further?”

“What do you mean?”

Yaku rolled his eyes and sighed. “Have you ever thought about us being _together_? Exclusive?”

Kuroo blinked. “Um...”

Yaku nodded and smiled at him. “That’s what I thought.”

Kuroo rested his chin on the top of the couch, looking across the cushions to the expanse of windows that acted as the living room’s missing wall. It must have stretched from Yaku’s bedroom alongside the building. The aesthetic was gorgeous - all open with nothing to hide - and yet no one could really look into the apartment. There were other rooms that the windows couldn’t show, alluding to some semblance of privacy. With that something was bound to stay out of sight.

It was peaceful here in this apartment. Kuroo liked the quiet of Yaku’s space and appreciated it - a change of scenery to absorb everything.

“We’re pathetic, huh?” Kuroo laughed dryly, casting his eyes to look at Yaku at the other end.

Yaku met his laugh with a nod, looking right back at him. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

Kuroo took another sip of his tea before putting the cup back down on the coffee table. He raised his arms over his head, slowly stretching forward until he was laying on his stomach with his head in Yaku’s lap. Wrapping his arms around Yaku’s midsection, Kuroo easily curled into him and sighed comfortably.

His relationship with Yaku was uncomplicated. They may have started out as rivals first year back in high school, but they easily became comfortable with each other. He was one of the few people Kuroo could trust with his genuine emotions and know that what they shared was trust. Why would he want to ruin a friendship like this?

“Kuroo?”

“Hm?”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

Kuroo snorted, pressing his face into Yaku’s stomach.

Yaku flicked his ear, chuckling along with him. “You could act a little more hurt.”

“Oh yes,” Kuroo snickered, turning his head so that he could peer up at him, “I am devastated, Morisuke. Whatever shall I do?”

“Fuck off,” he rolled his eyes, though his hand sought out Kuroo’s hair and gently ran his fingers through his perpetual bedhead. “Is that how you treat your ex-boyfriend?”

Kuroo coughed from his next fit of laughter, rolling onto his back. “Never had a boyfriend.”

“Oh Tetsurou...Forever the heartbreaker, huh?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm,” Yaku nodded knowingly. “You really should be careful. Never know who’s taking your words to heart.”

Kuroo cocked an eyebrow. “Parting wisdom?”

“You can call it that if you want,” he shrugged. “Besides, it would be best to end this before it got any weirder.”

“You mean breaking out your handcuffs again? That’s so vanilla of you, Morisuke,” Kuroo smirked at him.

Yaku’s face turned red as he flicked Kuroo’s nose. Kicking him would have been more satisfying, but it was hard to do so being situated on the couch like this.

Kuroo smiled up at him before sitting up again. In one fluid motion, he got to his feet and ran his hands through his hair. He straightened out his v-neck and pressed a hand to the back of his neck, already feeling tender from the marks Yaku left him.

“You don’t have to leave, you know.” Yaku told him, slowly turning his teacup in his hands. Against the expanse of the couch, he looked even smaller.

“I need some air,” Kuroo sighed, picking his jacket up off the armchair where he’d thrown it. In the haste of Yaku pulling him into the apartment, he was lucky to have kicked off his shoes at the door and tossed his jacket aside. Yaku was ruthless when he wanted to be.

Yaku frowned slightly but nodded. “Give me a call if you’re coming back. I’ll probably still be up.”

“Thanks, Yaku,” Kuroo gave him a sheepish smile, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets as he retreated backwards towards the door. “I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

Kuroo slipped into his sneakers and left the apartment. He made a swift exit out of the building but stood on the sidewalk for a few moments. He checked his phone and wasn’t surprised to see no new messages. Nightlife was active on Friday nights, which usually meant that if you weren’t at a party the likelihood of someone contacting you was very slim. Wait until about three or four in the morning and then maybe your inbox will be flooded.

He rubbed at his temples before groaning. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to stay with Yaku because he did feel calm and relaxed with him. It was because he knew he needed to actually think about everything.

Kuroo needed to start at the beginning.

The night air was refreshing. Since the heatwave broke, fall had quickly taken over and approached towards winter records. The cold slapped him awake and reminded him that he needed to keep moving, pushing him through the streets of downtown Tokyo. His feet carried him aimlessly through the city with no particular destination in mind.

He shuddered at a particularly strong wind that cut right through the leather of his jacket. If there had been more people on the sidewalks, it probably wouldn’t have affected him as much. But there was no one. Normally, it would have been a relief to walk downtown with no crowds pushing and shoving all over the place, but now it was just eerie.

The city was supposed to be full of life - an endless strand of activity no matter the time or day. It had been that way since Kuroo moved here when he was six. At first it was suffocating, but it quickly grew on him and became familiar. Comfortable. He couldn’t imagine living anywhere else to be honest. 

As he wandered the streets, Kuroo passed by one of the pocket parks in the city. It was designed for small children having a jungle gym, a slide, and a set of swings. For kids with active imaginations, they didn’t need much to invent a whole new world with their own rules and stories to explore.

He remembered dragging Kenma out to parks like these when they were younger. They made use of the space when volleyball came into their lives - pretending to be national players and crowds of thousands. Kenma always humored his creative scenarios, but the best was always when he played back and added onto the matches.

Smiling to himself, Kuroo entered the park and sat at one of the low lying swings. His legs stretched out in front of him as he barely hovered over the ground. He twisted his fingers in the chains holding him up, leaning his head on the opposite suspencion.

Growing up was never easy.

People thought it meant saying goodbye to childhood memories and friends. It was natural that people would go their separate ways as not one person was exactly the same as the other. A part of Kuroo had been expecting the same thing to happen between him and Kenma. But as they grew older they only grew closer. Now, he couldn’t imagine his life without his best friend.

Which was why this was so hard.

Nothing made sense anymore. 

But when did it _stop_ making sense?

Kuroo pushed himself back and forth in the sand, swaying a few inches above the ground below him. He thought for what felt like forever, carefully retracing his steps for the past month. When nothing came to mind, he thought back even further until finally remembering the one thing he had truly avoided thinking about.

“Fuck,” he cussed out, a puff of hot breath swirling around his face.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Kuroo pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He didn’t think as he hit the dial icon.

The phone rang forever - time slowing down to exaggerate the moment. Kuroo could feel his heart beat right out of his chest with every ring. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say if the other person answered, but it was now or never.

This needed to be done.

The automated voicemail picked up after the last ring, and out of exasperation, Kuroo ended the call without leaving a message. Kuroo should have known better than to expect him to pick up his phone call.

Not missing a beat, though, he opened up their conversation thread and immediately messaged:

< _We need to talk_  
[23:22]

 

* * *

 

**[22:57] Friday**

 

Iwaizumi Hajime was a hardworking and dedicated university student. He was a loyal teammate and never divulged sacred practice regimens - not even to his boyfriend (because they were opponents after all). He was always punctual at work and tried to be as efficient as he could in the small clinic a few blocks away from their apartment building. Yes, some would call Iwaizumi successful, prepared for adulthood after graduation.

_Thump._

But those people didn’t matter.

_Thump._

Iwaizumi didn’t do everything that he did for those people. He was driven, yes, because he knew where his path was going to take him after university. If he wanted to continue down that path, he needed to work hard and be efficient.

_Thump._

He needed to focus on what was in front of him.

_Thump._

These were the last reports from the week at the clinic. His team was competing in a tournament tomorrow, so he took off for the weekend. It was the first real break since the start of the semester.

_Thump._

If he could just finish what he needed to do, then he would have the whole weekend to spend with -

_Thump._

“Goddammit, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi growled, slamming his pen down onto his desk and quickly turning in his chair to glare at the man on the bed.

Oikawa had no plans this Friday night. He had asked if he could spend it with Iwaizumi, but when Iwa simply told him how he had reports to fill out, his boyfriend seemed to deflate. Iwaizumi had conceded his peace and quiet to agree for Oikawa to be in the same room with him.

He was starting to regret that deal.

“I’m sorry, Iwa-chan, but I’m so bored,” Oikawa pouted, rolling the volleyball he’d been tossing around in his hands.

Iwaizumi sighed, dragging his hand down his face. He knew there was more to it than that. Oikawa often had the habit of tossing a volleyball in bed whenever something was on his mind. It was a good distraction for him, but Iwaizumi needed to finish these reports.

He messed up their date night last week and really wanted to make up for it this weekend.

“What is it?” Iwaizumi asked, trying to go back to work while keeping an ear out. Sometimes Oikawa just needed to vent. He could multitask with that.

“What do you mean?”

“You were doing your distracted tossing pattern. Now, what are you thinking about?”

“Iwa-chan is so observant,” Oikawa cooed, rolling over on the bed and putting the ball down on the floor.

Iwaizumi didn’t need to turn back around to know that Oikawa had straightened up into a sitting position - probably crossing his legs and rocking slightly. He smirked to himself. It was scary sometimes with how well he knew Tooru’s mannerisms, maybe even better than Tooru himself.

“I’m worried about Kuroo.”

“Worried about Kuroo? What’s there to be worried about?” Iwaizumi scowled slightly at his notes. He wasn’t bothered by Oikawa and Kuroo’s closeness anymore, but he didn’t go out of his way to think much about it.

Oikawa sighed behind him. “He’s just so...oblivious.”

Iwaizumi snickered at that - though he knew he wasn’t one to talk. “And what’s he oblivious with now?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” Oikawa flipped his hand around as he spoke, “but I think it’s getting dangerous, Iwa-chan.”

“Oh?”

“You know just as well as I do that Kuroo can’t handle being apart from Kenma for so long. It’s been nearly three months now and with prelims coming up -”

“Ah,” Iwaizumi nodded, “there it is.”

“What?”

Iwaizumi sighed and turned around in his seat to see Oikawa exactly how he pictured. He sat cross-legged on their full-sized bed with an iron grip on his ankles, leaning slightly forward towards Iwaizumi’s desk. His hair was a bit of a mess after having been flattened from laying down and his shirt rode up slightly from all his shifting around.

“You’re overthinking about the team again.” Iwaizumi simply stated. “But this isn’t high school, Oikawa. Kuroo is a big boy and will be fine when the game comes around.”

Oikawa puffed his cheeks out and crossed his arms. “That’s...Kuroo is my _friend_ , Iwa-chan. Can’t I be worried about my friends?”

“Sure, just don’t add a shitty excuse to hide it.” Iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow at him. “If you’re worried about your friendship with Kuroo, I’m sure whatever is happening won’t affect you.”

“You’re right,” Oikawa nodded, “it’ll affect _all_ of us.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, sighing. “Tooru…”

“Of course you wouldn’t understand, Iwa-chan. You haven’t been around enough lately to see how upset one of our friends is.”

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes at that statement. He and Kuroo were the least close in the apartment - hell, even in their friend groups - but that didn’t mean they weren’t friendly. He still cared about whether or not someone was going through something.

“I know,” he conceded, “I haven’t been around, but don’t accuse me of not caring.”

It was Oikawa’s turn to raise an eyebrow at him. 

“But even if I do care about someone’s well-being, that doesn’t mean I have the right to interfere with his life.” Iwaizumi huffed. “He’s an adult and is capable of deciding things for himself. Whether that choice is good or not isn’t up to us, Shittykawa.”

Oikawa pursed his lips in thought. Iwa knew he had a point and made it, but there just had to be some underlying argument Oikawa was going to make. He always fought about these things - putting his nose in someone else’s business when he shouldn’t be. As friends, their job was to support and comfort the ultimate decision.

“I don’t like that.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, a subconscious habit at this point in his life. “Of course you don’t. You don’t have to. Just respect whatever it is Kuroo does. It’s not our choice.”

“But Iwa -”

“Listen, Tooru,” Iwaizumi breathed quietly, getting up from his spot at his desk to stand at the foot of their bed, “we could debate this until the sun comes up.”

Oikawa blinked as Iwa approached the bed, mouth slowly closing to swallow his protest.

“Or,” Iwaizumi put half his weight down on the mattress - one foot still firmly planted on the ground, “we could make better use of this time.”

“What...did you have in mind?” Oikawa’s voice dipped lower, trying to swallow around the dry lump in his throat.

Iwaizumi grinned as he brought a hand to Oikawa’s face. His skin was as smooth as ever and softer than he remembered. He really had been neglecting his boyfriend if he had forgotten what caressing his cheek felt like. Iwa brought his face close to Oikawa’s, his hot breath fanning between them as their noses barely touched.

“There’s no one here,” Iwaizumi reminded him gently. As he spoke, his lips lightly touched Oikawa’s. It took everything in him to not lose himself right then and there.

Oikawa simply made a noise in his throat - an agreement wrapped in a whimper.

“And I finished my reports.”

“That is,” Oikawa licked his lips, brushing Iwa’s in the process, “the sexiest thing you’ve said all week.”

He wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck and didn’t even have to pull him in to finally kiss him. Everyone knew Iwaizumi to have the more brute strength between them, which often made them overlook Oikawa’s physique. Yes, he was tall and lean, but he was made of pure muscle - Grade A for Athleticism. If Oikawa wanted to take control, not even Iwa could stop him.

But he didn’t want him to stop.

Both of them knew that this was going to be hard on them. Before selecting classes, they had seen what shitshow was going to affect their relationship. However, just because you can see it coming doesn’t mean you are prepared for the storm. Already this semester was difficult and put stress on the pair. Having a moment together tended to involve a poptart on the way out the door in the morning - if Iwa didn’t have a morning shift or Oikawa hadn’t already left for his morning run.

Iwaizumi shifted the rest of his weight onto the bed with a leg on either side of Oikawa, though kept to kneeling and hovering over the latter’s lap. Oikawa was the taller one between them, so if there was any leverage he could use to his advantage, Iwa was sure to do so. He brought his other hand to the other side of Oikawa’s face and kissed him deeper, licking and working further his way inside of Tooru’s mouth.

His brain battled with his body. Take this slow and enjoy the time they finally had together or give in and get that fix he so desperately craved?

He really missed his boyfriend.

Thankfully, though, Oikawa felt the same, and his need to have what was his always overrode any other thought process. As Iwa deepened the kiss, Oikawa’s hand already moved in the opposite direction and sought out to palm Iwaizumi through his sweatpants.

Iwaizumi released a sound between a sigh and a moan at the sudden pressure Oikawa’s hand provided.

Oikawa smiled against Iwa’s lips and applied a bit more friction, grasping the semi through his clothes that was building to become fully erect. Iwaizumi pulled back, panting, but he wasn’t surrendering. As Oikawa stroke him, he moved his mouth down to trail kisses along his boyfriend’s neck. He spent a particularly good amount of time at Tooru’s sensitive spot where his jaw ended, right underneath his ear - causing Oikawa to hum sweetly in response.

Managing some semblance of coherency, Oikawa pulled his hand away and lightly pushed at Iwa’s shoulder. They easily helped each other out of their t-shirts, tossing them to the floor. Whatever marks or bruises they’d had were completely gone now, giving them each a blank canvas to work with. Oikawa’s long fingers simply mapped out the ridges of Iwa’s torso and pinched a hardening nipple - which caused him to suppress a shudder, letting his eyes follow the trail of the slender digits.

It was Oikawa’s turn to lightly sink his teeth into Iwaizumi’s skin. He kissed at each new mark he made, rewarding himself with Iwaizumi’s gruff groans. It was more than obvious at how eager both of their bodies were at the slightest touch. Phone sex between classes or work just couldn’t cut it. Nothing could compare to the skilled tongue of Oikawa Tooru.

Slowly, Iwaizumi sank into Oikawa’s lap with his hands firmly carding through the latter’s hair, messing it up further. Their eyes met and the simmering fire burning at Iwaizumi’s core ignited. He roughly returned his lips back to Oikawa’s, biting and sucking on his lower lip - growling in his chest when he knew Tooru was being petulant about giving in. But there was a smile on Oikawa’s lips as he opened up to Iwaizumi’s persistence and rested his hands at Iwa’s well defined abdominals.

Being in Oikawa’s lap, Iwaizumi could feel his boyfriend’s own hard-on press up against his, and that first movement of his hips caused him to bite down on Tooru’s bottom lip. His moan buried itself in his chest, but he pressed down into Oikawa’s erection to illicit a similar - if not more enticing - sound out of him.

“I-Iwa,” Oikawa was breathless as he pulled away. His face was flushed red which extended all the way down his chest.

Iwaizumi bit down on his lip, tasting the faint metallic evidence of a split lip. “I’ll take care of you,” he promised, pushing Oikawa down onto the mattress to lay out underneath him.

Oikawa tangled their fingers together and shook his head. “Hajime, I -”

There was an abrupt vibration coming from the nightstand. Iwaizumi’s eyes immediately flicked over to the phone but realized that it wasn’t his. He left his device on the desk. Oikawa tilted his head to the same place but didn’t make an effort to move.

They both stayed still - silent - as the phone shuffled against the wood. Not wanting it to sense their presence, neither he or Oikawa said anything. 

Whoever it was could wait.

The device pulsed for what felt like a lifetime. Iwaizumi could hear the blood pounding in his ears as his chest constricted, not even wanting to breathe. Finally, the noise died off in a ding to signal the missed call. Meeting Oikawa’s eyes once more, there was a new urgency in the moment.

Their time felt limited.

“Iwa -”

“Don’t,” Iwaizumi immediately cut him off with a growl. Like fucking hell was life going to interrupt them _again_.

Something mischievous flashed in Oikawa’s eyes before a sly grin spread across his face. He relaxed underneath Iwaizumi and stretched his arms above his head, making his body longer than it already was. Iwa couldn’t keep his eyes off of him, watching as his muscles flexed under his skin.

“What’s wrong, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa purred, bringing his hands up to meet Iwaizumi’s hips. “I thought you were going to take care of me~?”

Iwaizumi released an unstable breath, his body becoming placid from Oikawa’s touch - those steady hands running up Iwa’s thighs. The distraction made it all the more convenient for Oikawa to flip him onto his back. Iwaizumi blinked slowly as he looked up into his boyfriend’s face who now hovered over him with that same mischievous glint returning to his eye. He went to open his mouth but was knocked breathless when Oikawa pressed their hips together, grinding their erections against one another.

Glad to know that the interruption didn’t deter them too much.

Iwaizumi hissed at the blissful pressure, arching his back before slowly melting into the mattress completely. He practically whined. As good as it felt, this wasn’t enough, and Oikawa knew it. Iwa was sure that his boyfriend was going to make him beg for it too.

“And you call _me_ selfish,” Oikawa smirked at him, letting his hand play at the waistband of Iwaizumi’s sweatpants.

“T-Tooru,” Iwaizumi’s hips reflexively thrust upwards.

Oikawa hummed at his name, snapping the elastic of his pants. Iwa gave a growl at the _thwack_ , but it wasn’t unpleasant. He knew he was being played with now, and it was unfair. Giving Tooru too much control was always poor for Iwa’s health.

“I swear to god, Shittykawa, if you don’t fucking touch me right now,” Iwaizumi threatened through gritted teeth. It was an empty threat even as he trailed off the unfinished sentence.

Oikawa fucking grinned at him. “Feisty, Iwa-chan~” He purred before leaning in to capture Iwaizumi’s lips. 

When Oikawa’s hands pulled his sweatpants down and his meticulous fingers wrapped around his cock, Iwaizumi nearly mewled, though he hid it well enough by opening his mouth for Tooru’s relentless assault. Making such sounds used to be embarrassing. However, Iwaizumi had given that up long ago into their relationship - suppression was simply habitual at this point. 

Iwaizumi wanted to fuck into Oikawa’s hand, but it was too raw. He hissed against Oikawa’s lips and made a needy noise in the back of his throat.

Oikawa pulled back and gave a little squeeze to Iwaizumi’s cock, stuttering his hips from moving. “Tell me what you want, Hajime.”

Fuck.

Iwaizumi knew he wasn’t in control and was playing into what Tooru wanted. He had to surrender.

“Y-You,” he gasped, throwing his head back against the mattress, “F-Fuck, I want you.”

Again, that shit-eating grin plastered Oikawa’s face. Normally, it would have annoyed the hell out of Iwaizumi, but he didn’t care in the slightest.

_Ding!_

Iwaizumi never hated something so much in his entire life. Whoever was trying to interrupt this one moment with _his_ boyfriend was going to pay a hefty price.

His head turned to the nightstand and then back to Oikawa. “I swear to god, Shittykawa, don’t you dare.”

“I should at least check who it is,” Oikawa let out a breath.

But they both knew that if they stopped now, this night was not going to go well. Was this their curse for wanting some alone time? They couldn’t just have one moment together?

“Tooru.”

A second _ding_ came through and Oikawa sighed. As he reached for the phone, Iwaizumi growled - more to himself - and sank into the mattress.

Defeated.

“Shit,” Oikawa hissed, sitting back on his legs as he quickly typed in a reply. “Iwa, I -”

“Go,” Iwaizumi groaned, pressing his palms into his eyes. Maybe he could just end his suffering here. How much pressure could the human skull take again?

“It’ll be quick. I swear!” Oikawa promised him as he rolled off the bed.

Iwaizumi watched as his boyfriend threw on a pair of jeans and his sweater he’d worn earlier that day. It was the blue one that deepened the auburn in his hair and made his eyes look delicate. It was Iwaizumi’s favorite sweater.

Life was unfair.

Before he left, though, Oikawa came back over to the bed and planted a sweet kiss to Iwa’s lips. It wasn’t enough, but the apology was there. And as frustrated as he was, Iwaizumi wasn’t going to hold this above Tooru’s head.

Not for too long anyway.

He listened for the front door closing before releasing a loud, low groan. His boyfriend was gone in what felt like the dead of night, and he was left painfully hard. How the fuck Oikawa was able to rush out was beyond his understanding. He should have been just as riled up as he was.

Slowly, Iwaizumi sat up and brought himself to his desk to grab his phone. He didn’t have to go searching through his contacts to find his conversation thread with Oikawa as it was already up.

A new message waited for him:

 

**From Trashykawa:**  
_I owe you!!_ ٩(♡ε♡ )۶  
[23:32]

 

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. It wasn’t Oikawa’s fault...entirely. But was it so wrong with the world that they couldn’t just get one night together?

Sighing, he typed in a reply before going back over to the bed. He had a situation to deal with first and then maybe he would be able to get some sleep before the game tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for some changing POVs~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ I also understand now how there are so many IwaOi fics >.> I mean, they just practically write themselves lol I do have some ideas for future oneshots and experimenting with these POVs will def help with those decisions~
> 
> And we're getting closer to one of my more favorite scenes in the whole fic! I'm so excited and nervous to see how y'all will like it (=ↀωↀ=) The next couple of chapters do take place within a couple of hours which is why I put the time stamp at the beginning of each of skip. With the changing POVs and time jumping, I thought I would try and make it a bit easier on the reader. I think the whole scavenger hunt layout works best for what I'm about to throw at you, so hopefully y'all will enjoy it too ლ(=ↀωↀ=)ლ
> 
> Thank you for all the feedback so far! We're jumping down the rabbit hole now~


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Most social links in video games didn’t work like the real world. Of course there were consequences if given a positive or negative response, but those were usually predictable and only cost points, coins, or whatever marker was being used to tally the relationship. Characters were programed with specific algorithms that over time became boring and monotonous._
> 
> _Social links in real life were much more horrible._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize on the late update! I wasn't feeling too well last week ^^; I appreciate all of the feedback and kudos and wow, you guys are amazing for putting up with my slow burn bullshit (*ΦωΦ*)

**[22:40] Friday**

 

Kozume Kenma enjoyed video games just the same as someone who enjoyed reading books.

Games were just more interactive.

Kenma could easily lose hours in main quests, side quests, and social links. When he played a game, he played to complete it at one hundred percent. He hated using walkthroughs or cheat sheets - no matter how difficult the level. If he couldn’t solve it, then he would switch to a different game until an idea or strategy hit him. At one given time, Kenma could be working on five games at once with nearly perfect recall of what he previously did in that file.

Gaming enthusiasts called him lucky out of jealousy, but Kenma never viewed it like that. Having his memory for games was great and all; however, when he wasn’t gaming, that ability felt more like a curse. And no matter what he did, Kenma could not forget what had built up in his everyday life.

**_Game Over._ **

Kenma glared at his television screen, gripping the console controller tightly in his hands. He sighed before giving in and restarting the game for the third time that night. Dying wasn’t uncommon in the games he played, but it was annoying when it was an easy boss.

He wasn't paying attention.

Normally, whatever game he played, Kenma devoted a good ninety-five percent of his focus. The remaining five percent was idly listening for his phone or any loud voices coming from the living room - not that he would act on any of these stimuli. Honestly it was all for the purpose of his friends.

But tonight, Kenma considered his focus to be at an all time low of sixty percent with the other forty hyperfocusing on his phone beside him. It was rather quiet. It had been quiet the entire day, and that was more distracting than any continuous notification.

Pausing the game on his console, Kenma idly flipped through the messages on his phone once again. Most of them, he left on read - responding when he really had to - but one conversation thread seemed to be glaring at him.

 

**From Kuroo:**  
 _don’t forget to eat today!!_ ლ(=ↀωↀ=)ლ  
[11:23]

 

The message from this morning was left unresponded to just like a lot of the others. It was starting to become normal - ignoring Kuroo but still receiving the same amount of text messages a day.

Something pulled in Kenma’s chest as his fingers itched to reply. Sure, it would be nearly twelve hours later, but he knew Kuroo wouldn’t mind. He could practically envision the light in his best friend’s eyes after receiving one of his text messages, and that made his gut twist again.

Just like last Sunday.

If Kenma could still picture something so ridiculous as Kuroo’s reactions to his messages, then he hadn’t shown any improvement at all. This semester had been rough already, and at this point, it didn’t seem like it was going to be possible to distance himself as much as he initially planned.

“GAHH!! LOOK OUT!!”

Kenma blinked slowly at his bedroom door. His concentration was already shot for the night, so the screaming coming from the living room didn’t bother him too much. He knew Keiji had Koutarou over tonight, and by the latter’s scream, they were watching a movie together.

He stood up from his chair, grabbed his phone, and went to his door. Before entering the hall, Kenma checked his phone for any last second messages and sighed when his answer came back negative. Stuffing his phone into his pocket, he decided to venture out and inspect the movie date.

Being roommates with Keiji was nice. They were both quiet and could easily tell when the other needed space. Kenma had gotten particularly close to him because of Koutarou and Kuroo’s friendship, but he really didn’t mind Keiji’s company outside of that. Their third year of high school had been a bit rough for the both of them and that was probably when they had gotten this close. Kenma wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he was glad that Keiji was around.

As predicted, Keiji and Koutarou were definitely watching a movie in the living room - curled up together on the couch. Koutarou sat up straight with his back rigid and eyes darting around to follow the movements on the screen. He looked absolutely terrified, wearing his emotions on his sleeve as usual. Keiji, on the other hand, was stretched out on the couch with his head comfortably resting in his boyfriend’s lap. He wore a bored expression, unfazed by the melodrama, but Kenma could see the signs of content on Keiji’s face even as Koutarou jerked around at the presumed jumpscares.

Kenma took his place at his favorite armchair, nestling in the crook of the cushions and pulling out his phone. He had mastered the art of infiltrating movie dates long ago and easily blended into the darkness of the room. Looking at the television, he noticed the movie right away and rolled his eyes - Alfred Hitchcock’s _The Birds_.

Throughout the rest of the movie, Koutarou jumped about thirty-five times, and Keiji remained placid through each one. Anyone else would have assumed the latter was bored and maybe made to concede into watching this movie, but Kenma knew it was Keiji’s favorite film. It was more entertaining to view Koutarou’s reactions, though, rather than focusing on the screen in front of him. 

Glancing down at his phone, Kenma inwardly sighed - though whether it was at himself or the device, he wasn’t even sure. He could feel his leg begin to shake lightly from the caged in anxiety, so he brought his knees to chest in an attempt to cut the action off. Kenma hated showing any signs of his internal struggles, even if he knew he was in good company.

The only one he ever let see his anxious ticks was Kuroo.

“I swear,” Koutarou began as the movie ended, “the phone booth scene gets me every time!” He exclaimed, reaching over to the side table to turn a light on.

Keiji remained in Koutarou’s lap as he hummed in agreement. “I know, Kou. You react the same every time,” he chuckled quietly into his boyfriend’s thigh.

“Can’t help it! That shit’s scary, Akaashi!”

Kenma rolled his eyes before directing all his attention back onto his phone screen. He didn’t have anything particular pulled up, but he still pretended to be engrossed in the device.

“What about you, Kenma? Was that scene scary?” Keiji easily directed his attention to Kenma, most likely having been aware of his presence since he crashed in on the couple.

Kenma looked to his roommate and blinked slowly.

“Whoa!” Koutarou jumped, eyes widening in surprise. “When did you get here, Kenma?”

“I live here.”

Keiji sat up and stretched his arms over his head, running a hand through his disheveled curls before leaning back against Koutarou’s chest. The pair was perfectly in sync and had been practically since the day Kenma met Keiji. He was happy for them, sure, but seeing them together made his throat run dry and chest constrict. They were a reminder of what he couldn’t have at the moment.

His missing other half.

Damn, did that sound cheesy and cliche - even if it was just a musing thought.

As if sensing Kenma’s discomfort, Keiji leaned away from his boyfriend and moved to sit closer to Kenma’s armchair. He pulled his legs up to fill the space between himself and Koutarou while he leaned on the sofa’s armrest, dropping his head into his hand and looking at his roommate.

Keiji’s perceptive gaze always captured more than what one was willing to let be seen - though he didn’t necessarily comment on everything he saw. With those gunmetal eyes directed at him, Kenma couldn’t help but stare back. 

It was a defensive mechanism - Kenma was aware of that - but it was also how he and Keiji often communicated. Very few words ever had to be said between them. It was nice at times because Kenma didn’t always feel like talking, and the silent communication almost always cued what was on his mind. In other instances, it was downright horrible. It made hiding certain things that more difficult between them.

He had infiltrated their movie date with a purpose in mind - to which Keiji was most likely aware by now - but if he was going to accomplish anything, he couldn’t divulge anything to his roommate.

There was a fifty-fifty chance that Keiji would either stop or assist him.

Koutarou began to shift on the couch, feeling the staring contest grow in tension. Wanting to shake the empty silence in the room, he grabbed the television remote and flipped on a random channel. The background noise was appreciative.

However Kenma looked away from Keiji first. The habit of checking his phone out-won whatever piece of information would be gathered in the action.

But there was nothing.

No message.

“Expecting a phone call?” Keiji’s voice came across cool and collected. Over the past couple of months, he had already learned the reasoning behind Kenma’s constant message checking. 

There really was no need to comment on it.

Kenma cast a glare in Keiji’s direction. “No.”

“Really?” Koutarou chirped and pointed a finger at the device in Kenma’s hands. “You keep checking your phone.”

Thank you, Captain Obvious. Koutarou was as blunt as ever. Sighing, Kenma stuffed his phone into the pocket of his hoodie. 

Out of sight. 

Out of mind.

Keiji returned his attention back to his boyfriend and asked for the remote, dropping the subject and changing the channel. He wasn’t so cruel as to drag Kenma into an unwanted conversation. He was often careful to pick his battles.

Kenma blankly stared at the TV, not particularly paying attention to the program - though he knew it was more geared towards Koutarou’s preferences rather than Keiji’s. Perhaps his roommate wasn’t quite done observing him. Fair, given Kenma’s sudden appearance during the at-home date night. But if Keiji truly wanted privacy, they could have stayed in his bedroom all night.

Sometimes it felt as if Kenma was under surveillance.

He could understand his friends being concerned for him. Kenma didn’t exactly hide his new behavior. How could he when he was sure Kuroo kept mentioning it to everyone? But he wasn’t left with much of a choice. For his own well-being, Kenma needed some distance from Kuroo - no matter how much it hurt.

That being said, he still wanted to know what was going on. 

“Oh, Kou,” Keiji cleared his throat to get his boyfriend’s attention, “how did your study session with Tetsurou go the other day?”

Kenma looked to his roommate and never felt more grateful. Keiji knew what he was thinking about and just gave him the segue he needed to garner the desired information - like a perfectly implemented NPC.

Koutarou looked to Keiji and rubbed the back of his neck. “Ended up cancelling to stay at the gym a bit longer.”

“Oh,” Keiji blinked, genuine surprise at the answer.

Kenma cocked an eyebrow at that. 

“I’ve barely seen him all week actually,” Koutarou continued as he thought aloud to himself, “and when I have seen him, he’s been a bit...lost.”

“Lost?” Kenma questioned, prompting for Koutarou to continue. What did he mean by lost?

“Er, distracted?” Koutarou scratched his cheek now, shifting slightly under Kenma’s scrutinizing gaze. “He hasn’t been himself much lately, you know. Says he’s studying a lot this semester and hasn’t been out to any parties except, well, for the one.”

Kuroo’s inactive social life would be a concern for the others, considering Kuroo liked the attention and atmosphere of college parties. He thrived in those kinds of conditions. So it was only natural to use the lack of activity as a red flag.

Kenma, however, took that information differently. The lack of going out didn’t exactly concern him. Kuroo had always been an honor student, despite his appearances, and took his schooling very seriously. No, studying and not going out wasn’t the red flag here.

Kuroo being distracted was the bigger concern - dangerous even.

“But I think he’s okay!” Koutarou’s positivity shone through his grin. “He said he was going out tonight.”

Kenma remained in control - keeping his face as neutral as ever. Going out was normal. It didn’t mean anything.

“Did he say with anyone?” Keiji prompted once more as if fishing for details himself.

Koutarou thought for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, I think he was headed over to Yaku’s place.”

“Oh,” Kenma looked back to him. “He’s with Morisuke?”

Morisuke was safe. He and Kuroo had been on again/off again as “friends with benefits” since some time back in high school. There weren’t any deep, emotional ties between them. In fact, if they ever did date, one of them would probably end up dead. Kenma’s money would be on Kuroo dying because Morisuke was just that...resourceful. So being with him was a much better scenario than Kuroo being with a stranger.

Or worse.

There was always a worse option.

“You know about him and Yaku?” Koutarou blinked.

“Kuroo told me.”

It wasn’t a lie. Kuroo _had_ told Kenma about the relationship back when it first happened - back when there wasn't this emptiness between them.

Most social links in video games didn’t work like the real world. Of course there were consequences if given a positive or negative response, but those were usually predictable and only cost points, coins, or whatever marker was being used to tally the relationship. Characters were programed with specific algorithms that over time became boring and monotonous.

Social links in real life were much more horrible.

They were overly complicated with too many societal cues at times. Say something positive or negative and instead of receiving a limited number of responses, anything could happen. A high social link did feel like an accomplishment - finding the right response patterns to reach that level - but no matter how strong the link or how long you have known the person, they could still react unexpectedly. 

It was too much work at times, which left Kenma burnt out from spending too much time with certain friends. His personal social links, however, were important to him - some not arguably more important than others - but there was always a time when he needed a break to recharge or re-evaluate the connection.

Not once had Kenma ever had to do that with Kuroo. 

At least, not before -

_Ding!_

Kenma blinked, expecting either Keiji or Koutarou to reach for their phones, but they didn’t move. They continued to stare at the television - Koutarou making fun of the host while Keiji lightly chided him.

 

> _We need to talk_  
[23:22]

 

There was a lot of weight in such a simple message.

He felt his entire body tense up - his eyes were glued to his phone, staring at those four words. Kenma knew he couldn’t leave this message on read, but it was difficult to respond when all he wanted to do was pause this game. Something had to have triggered this event, and that was what caught him off guard.

“Kenma?”

“I have to go.” Kenma said automatically, getting up from the armchair. His body felt light and his mind was blank. If he had to think about what he was doing right now, he knew he would shut down.

But this was important.

He quickly moved from the living room back to his bedroom to change hoodies - opting out of his lightweight sweatshirt for something more weather appropriate. As he moved, he grabbed only the important resources like his wallet and keys, already having his phone. Kenma was quick on his feet, and in no time, he was already slipping into his sneakers.

“Kenma.”

Keiji’s voice cut through him like ice, stopping him in his stride. When he turned around, Kenma saw the soft expression on his roommate’s face. It was clear that he was curious as to what caused the sudden change, but he wasn’t going to stop him. Kenma knew all too well that Keiji just wanted to reset the quest for him.

Kenma took in a deep breath and felt a bit more in control now. He stood up and gave a curt nod, acknowledging what it is Keiji was telling him.

_Don’t panic._

Saying goodbye to the couple on the couch, Kenma made his way out of the apartment and texted his reply.

 

* * *

 

**[23:50] Friday**

 

Sitting alone in a deserted park was definitely not on his list of things to do on a Friday night, but here he was.

Kuroo Tetsurou was one hundred eighty-eight centimeters tall and weighed about seventy-five kilograms. The swingset he was sitting on squeaked from every little sway he subconsciously made. He was also so low to the ground that he was practically sitting in the sand bedding - the back of his jeans were definitely covered in dirt. Resting his head against the rusted chain suspencion, Kuroo accepted where he was and how he looked.

Ridiculous.

Why not get up and move? Well, that had already occurred to him as soon as he had sat down. But he decided against it. 

This was the perfect position to re-evaluate what brought him here to this point.

He had time to kill anyways. And before he arrived, Kuroo wanted to have his thoughts in order. It was time to open this can of worms and get down to business.

So...where to start…

Kuroo took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. Starting from the beginning would take too long, and he didn’t have that amount of time.

_“You’ve done the same thing to everyone you’ve gotten close to.”_

Yaku’s words echoed at a good time. Kuroo could definitely use that to start.

_“You create space.”_

“Space, huh?” Kuroo sighed and dug his heel into the dirt a bit more. 

He never really thought about it before. Generally, when something was going smoothly with someone, it didn’t take long for that person to lose interest. Kuroo was always up front with the people he was with. Most were flings, one night stands, or a booty call once in a while - nothing concrete.

Nothing exclusive.

But for those whom he was frequent with, they knew how he worked. Kuroo was clear on his boundaries and never made promises he couldn’t keep.

Yaku was the first person Kuroo was ever with. It all happened so quickly - passionately in one of the storage closets of their high school gymnasium. They may have started out as rivals, never agreeing on anything, until it came to their end goals. Honestly, after that, it felt natural being with Yaku.

_“Have you ever thought about us being_ together _? Exclusive?”_

Kuroo blinked at the repeated question.

He never really thought about it. To him, what they had right now was perfectly fine because there were no barriers. Kuroo knew the moment a relationship turned exclusive a wall would be thrown up - whether to block out past relationships, fears, weaknesses, motives - something would separate them, and he just wasn’t into that. Keeping secrets from each other was just asking for trouble.

And this thought didn’t just occur with Yaku.

Kai and Daichi were treated the same way.

Kai Nobuyuki was around just as long as Yaku, though they didn’t hook up until about their second year and it didn’t last long. Kai was known to be strong, reliable, and kind - all qualities that stirred Kuroo’s infatuation in the first place - but Kuroo just couldn’t commit. He was too easily swayed by sweet words, and Kuroo knew he would ruin him.

The same was said about Daichi. The attraction was immediate, and while there was some fun memories between them, Kuroo had backed off. He could have asked for more, but that would have been selfish, especially to Suga-chan. It was obvious just how into each other they were, so after about a week, Kuroo simply handed him off.

It was better to beat the rejection than face it.

Kuroo began to twist in his seat, hearing the chain rattle as the metal frame overhead groaned from his weight. 

Maybe that was the start of it?

Was he that afraid of rejection?

He had never been rejected before.

Kuroo knew the right words of what to say and how to say them in order to get what he wanted. That skill came from practice and a little help from his freshman roommate.

No one was as big of a challenge than Oikawa Tooru. Even now, Kuroo had to shake his head and laugh at himself for that one. Maybe that was his masochist streak coming out? Because having been that close to someone nicknamed _The Grand King_ , it surely did terrible things to him. It was like he wanted to get hurt, and if he had continued, Kuroo was sure Iwaizumi would have fulfilled that dark wish for him.

No, there was no way Kuroo would have lasted with Oikawa. And he definitely wasn’t afraid of being rejected by him - they were unanimous on ending their arrangement. Kuroo had known about Oikawa’s feelings for Iwaizumi and had seen the latter behave similarly, so it became simple math after that.

After Oikawa, though, there hadn’t been a challenge.

He spent a whole year with nameless faces and faceless names. No one was particularly interesting enough to remember thoroughly, so Kuroo spent a bit more time studying or practicing than partying. 

Kuroo squinted and glared at the dirt by his feet. That didn’t quite add up. If his sophomore year was similar to his current situation, then why hadn’t he been as distracted as he was now? What was the difference in those situations?

Well, the obvious answer was time. He had so much time back then, and now, it was escaping him.

Was that really it?

The wind cut through his thoughts and his leather jacket, causing Kuroo to shiver. He lifted his head and looked up at the sky. It was cloudy, but it wasn’t as if he could see stars even on a clear night. He would have to leave the city to do that, but there was a natural source of light that illuminated between the clouds and even through the neon of downtown.

The moon was nearly full tonight.

Kuroo couldn’t really remember the last time he had paid much attention to the night sky. The science behind the moon’s spotlight was rather inspiring. Obviously, the floating rock didn’t produce the light on its own, but it took what it was given and created its own strength in the darkness.

Tsukishima Kei was two years younger than he was, someone who grew to love volleyball - his protege, and the last person he was truly with. He was also the biggest distraction of Kuroo Tetsurou’s life.

“Fuck,” Kuroo breathed, running a hand down his face and then through his hair.

This is exactly what he had been meaning to talk about for the past two - almost three - months now. He had let this fester for too long and was now left with the consequences of being totally distracted.

He pulled out his phone and checked for any messages.

Nothing.

The time read that it was midnight, and his chest tightened at that. This waiting was starting to get to him, and Kuroo could feel his suppressed anxiety begin to bubble up. When he had reached out earlier, he had hoped for a quicker arrival, but it was a Friday night. People were out and that meant public transportation was as unreliable as usual.

Kuroo had been avoiding all thoughts about Tsukki. 

It wasn’t easy.

Because it was reflect and review time, Kuroo had to admit that Tsukishima had been different compared to the others he’d been with. They spent a good amount of time with each other, and once again, Kuroo was reminded of how natural that felt.

It wasn’t like being with Yaku.

And it wasn’t like being with Kenma.

But it had been...something.

Kuroo squinted in the dark as his thoughts devoured his mind. He felt like he was close to solving an invisible _something_.

Tsukki had been the one to call their arrangement off. That hadn’t surprised Kuroo since he was used to it, but at the same time, it didn’t make sense. Tsukki hadn’t been like the others who called off whatever relationship they had. There had still been _something_ behind his eyes. Everyone else had looked like they’d given up, but Tsukki looked…

Kuroo clenched his hands around the chains of his swing. What was the word? What was that look in his eyes?

It had been the first time that Kuroo didn’t want to end an arrangement. Not yet. That look - whatever it was - still nagged in his mind. It was left unanswered, and somehow whenever Kuroo thought back to that moment, he felt an incredible amount of guilt.

Sifting through theories, memories, and probabilities, Kuroo genuinely lost himself. The quiet hum of the city disappeared and even the biting cold became numbing. He felt as if he was freestanding, suspended in both time and space to solve the mysteries of his life. Analyzing himself was difficult, but slowly, things were beginning to tick away and became a bit clearer.

Maybe he wasn’t afraid of rejection. He had offered himself plenty of times to plenty of people and would get turned down - not a big deal. Even someone like Tsukki ended up rejecting him, but that was a big deal. However, it wasn’t the rejection itself that got to him.

Perhaps it was the person?

Or was it the reasoning?

Why did Tsukki break it off again?

As he answered questions, new ones simply popped up in their place. Kuroo needed these answers if he was going to figure out what was wrong with him for the last few months. Before he could fulfill his promise to Kenma, he needed to know why he pushed people away.

Because Kenma was the last person he wanted to push away.

Kenma meant too much to him - that was fact. So if he was subconsciously pushing those he could possibly be close with away from him, Kuroo needed to figure this out. To every problem, there was _always_ a solution. There was -

A hand.

He felt his shoulders tense up under the sudden contact, having not heard him approach, and everything just seemed to stop. 

No more thoughts. 

No more moving. 

No more breathing. 

Everything slowed down when that hand touched his shoulder.

“Kuroo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all aren't getting dizzy! Again, I try and update each scene/POV change with a time stamp for perspective since this is jumping around a bit in the timeline~
> 
> Not gonna lie, writing from Kenma's perspective was definitely difficult for me (๑ↀᆺↀ๑) It made writing Kuroo's scene a lot easier though! I love all of these boys so much and just wanna do them justice~ I also finally revealed how Tsukki fits into all of this and gave some more shout outs to my favorite Kuroo ships >.>
> 
> Enjoy the cliff hanger!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I got a call from Yamaguchi.”_
> 
> _Something twisted in Oikawa’s gut, and he felt his fingers itch for his phone. Call, text, whatever, but he suddenly felt the urge to find out where Kuroo was right now._
> 
> _Suga relaxed his shoulders as he let out a long exhale. He folded his hands over the table and leaned in towards Oikawa, keeping his voice low as if they were being listened to. “Are you certain Kuroo is with Yaku right now?”_

**[23:50] Friday**

 

The door in front of him was plain, simple with just the number and letter to identify that this was the right place. It did feel a bit off being in an apartment building not entirely designated for university students, but it was to be expected of this particular resident. As jarring as it was, it also felt secluded - protected almost like an illusion cast in plain sight. It was his first time being here, but he was sure this was the right address.

That being said, he still hesitated on making his presence known.

Count it as a save point, but Kenma stood outside the apartment with no intentions of knocking quite yet. He had come over simply on autopilot and just now realized where he was. It definitely wasn’t where he wanted to be - far from it - but this was a stepping stone in his quest’s objective.

Kenma just had to make up his mind on whether or not he wanted to accept it.

In open world map RPGs, there were several different events that could trigger, and yet they all eventually led back to the main objective. If this moment was any similar, he could skip whatever this event was and wait for a different one to open up.

But what if this was more of a linear based game?

That meant he would have no choice but to confront this mini boss before moving onto the next target. If that was the case, there was no helping it. This conversation was programmed from the beginning - no matter how long it took to get to this moment.

This was going to be uncomfortable either way.

“Kenma?”

The door to the apartment had opened while Kenma stood there, his hands clenching and unclenching in the pockets of his hoodie.

“I thought I heard the elevator stop at this floor. Thanks for coming over.”

Kenma nodded, looking at Morisuke from underneath his bangs - despite being fractionally taller than him.

Morisuke had clearly just taken a shower as his hair was still wet - a drop or two finding their way down to soak the collar of his t-shirt. He tilted his head slightly in an attempt to catch Kenma’s eyes, but it was clear that Kenma wasn’t into making eye contact at the moment. Shrugging it off, he opened his door further and gestured for his former setter to come inside.

“I know it’s not _too_ late for you, but I still appreciate you coming over. I really needed to discuss something with you, and since you don’t like talking on the phone…” Morisuke trailed off his sentence as he made his way to his living room.

Kenma made sure to get a good look of the apartment after slipping from his shoes at the front door. It was a rather modern concept flat with the living room connected to his kitchen. He noticed a hallway with four doors relatively spaced between each other, which was odd. For the estimated amount of what this neighborhood - this building - cost, Morisuke wouldn’t have roommates, nor had he ever mentioned any before.

He had been invited to Morisuke’s previous apartment several times. It was much smaller and located in a more lower-middle class neighborhood. Back in high school, Morisuke was rather secretive about his family, but it didn’t take too much for Kenma to deduce the reason behind it.

The libero was loaded.

But he never flaunted his money. This was the most extravagant he had been since knowing him.

Kenma watched as Morisuke took a seat on his overly sized sectional. It was overly spacious for a single person of average height - probably enough room for several Morisukes.

“You can sit anywhere, you know,” Morisuke gestured to the couch and armchairs. “Don’t have to keep standing.”

Nodding, Kenma took a seat at one of the further armchairs and easily curled his legs up to his chest. It was a comfortable position for him, especially in new environments. He trusted and even liked Morisuke, but there was still so much that was new surrounding him.

Watching Kenma find a good sitting position, Morisuke sighed and moved from his own position on the couch to be closer to the armchair. He made it clear that this wasn’t the time for distance.

Kenma could see the caution in Morisuke’s movements, being careful as to not to spook him - which was ridiculous because he wasn’t going to be startled that easily. Having Kuroo in his life had made him invulnerable to sneak attacks, jumpscares, and overall overtly annoying nuances. But the carefulness was still thoughtful.

Morisuke opened his mouth to clearly begin a conversation but quickly shut it. Kenma could see the inner struggle written in the latter’s eyes.

Before leaving his own apartment, Keiji and Koutarou had confirmed for Kenma that Kuroo had been with Morisuke again. He knew this wasn’t such a big deal as the pair had had an arrangement like this for the past few years now. However, the timing was too coincidental to not make Kenma a little bit nervous in this moment.

“You wanted to talk with me.” Kenma prompted quietly as if reminding Morisuke that he didn’t need to start any small talk. It would drag the conversation on for far too long anyways.

“Right,” he nodded and took in a breath, steadying his resolve. “Kuroo and I were together again.”

“I know.”

“You...know?”

Kenma nodded.

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter how,” Kenma sighed and rested his chin on the tops of his knees, “but you don’t have to inform me every time you two hook up together.”

“That’s...not the point,” Morisuke shook his head.

Kenma knew that. 

Morisuke wasn’t the type of player to boast about his accomplishments and would never rub the fact he has slept with his best friend over and over again. No, he was the type of player who would keep his personal backstory locked for later levels - only learning the truth about him after level ten, and that took a lot of effort. If Kenma guessed his class, he was probably that of a paladin or a cleric - someone to support other characters with a sense of morals and righteousness. There would be no reason to assume Morisuke to be a boss battle for Kenma to face.

He wasn’t Tsukishima.

“The point is...I’ve been thinking about this - about everything for a while now.” Morisuke leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes, running a hand over his face. “This last time we were together...it just really bothered me.”

It wasn’t unusual for Kenma to be an outlet for his friends to vent their frustrations. He would store the information for later, but he really had no active use for any of it. Unlike Tooru or Koushi, he didn’t meddle in other people’s lives like that.

It was too much effort.

“I heard about Tsukishima.”

Kenma went still, trying his hardest not to react because that would mean acknowledging emotions he really didn’t want to feel at the moment.

Morisuke looked at him though as he continued. “Suga told me about everything...though it seemed Kuroo was as dense as ever, huh?”

Kuroo was oblivious, yes, but there had been something different about him that day. He had witnessed his own family fall apart, so it was only natural for him to have walls up when it came to relationships. It wasn’t that he was dense but well protected - even from his own self.

“You know, he thinks about you all the time,” Morisuke shifted topics. “I would catch him looking at his phone when there were no messages, and he told me about your midnight snack adventure on Sunday. He was obviously jealous.”

“I know.”

Morisuke laughed, shaking his head. “And yet...you haven’t told him?”

Kenma frowned at that. “What would there be to say? He knows how I feel.”

“No, he doesn’t. Not like that.”

“I just...want him to be happy.”

“Even if that’s not with you?” Morisuke cocked an eyebrow at him, carefully watching his expression. “You’re not the self-sacrificing martyr-type, Kenma.”

“I know.”

“Then stop,” he narrowed his eyes, “because you’ve been playing that character ever since I met you.”

Kenma hugged himself just a little bit tighter. “But that’s who Kuroo is,” he sighed and looked to Morisuke, keeping his conviction. “If I tell him first without him already realizing how he truly feels, he’ll simply bend himself to appeal to my own needs.”

“It would give him the wake up call he needs, though.”

“No, it wouldn’t.”

“Kenma -”

“That wouldn’t be _my_ Kuroo,” Kenma could feel his ears burn as he said it, but it was the truth. “I don’t want to force him.”

Morisuke was beginning to get frustrated - evident by the look in his eyes - but he wasn’t going to do anything. Kenma was positive of this. He generally didn’t interfere in other people’s business if he could help it.

“You’re both stupid.”

Kenma shrugged in response - neither confirming nor denying it. People came into their own feelings at different times in their lives. Just because he’d been sure from an earlier age didn’t mean anything. It was all meaningless if both parties involved weren’t aware about _something_ for the other.

“Well,” he ran a hand through his damp hair and sighed, “this has been some night...You know, you’re both perfect for each other if you continue like this.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Kenma scoffed inwardly, “And how is Lev?”

Watching someone snap their head forward never gave Kenma such whiplash before.

“You clearly have the accommodations now. You no longer have any excuses.”

They stared at each other for a solid few minutes - a typical defiant showdown. They weren’t as frequent as they had been in high school, but it usually meant a truce.

Kenma was firm in how he wanted to handle things for now. No one knew Kuroo better than he did, not even Kuroo, and so he knew this was the best way - he’d calculated it enough to know this. Keeping his distance, however, was an added measure mostly to protect himself.

Kuroo and Tsukishima hadn’t been the only ones bad for each other.

“Was that...all you wanted to talk about?”

Morisuke sighed heavily and nodded. “Yeah, I guess so...but you know, you can always talk to me about this, right? It’s not good to keep it all bottled up.”

Kenma nodded as he unfurled himself from the armchair and stood up, rolling his shoulders back. He didn’t realize how tense he’d gotten. 

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Kenma felt his phone and blinked. He hadn’t checked it once since being at Morisuke’s apartment. He pulled it out to view any new messages, but nothing had changed. No new events.

“You should invite Lev over.” Kenma could hear Morisuke shift on the couch as he slipped on his shoes by the door.

Clearing his throat, he called back, “You could...pass that along.”

Kenma shook his head, opening the door, “No. _You_ need to do it,” he gave a very faint smile before slipping out of the apartment - no doubt with a blushing libero left in his wake.

What was the point of clearing a quest without putting the work in?

 

* * *

 

**[23:50] Friday**

 

This was _not_ what he had in mind.

It was a rare Friday night where the apartment had been deserted, he had no academic responsibilities, and his boyfriend was also available. It was the first time since being back from break that they had spent more than two minutes with each other. Sure, they had grown more efficient with squeezing in the necessities in such little time, but this was ridiculous. It was as if the universe was playing some cruel joke on the couple.

Instead of fucking, being fucked, or both, Oikawa Tooru selflessly peeled himself away in the middle of the night to answer an S.O.S. call. 

He could have ignored it. The battery could have died. Hell, if Iwa had thrown his phone and broke it, Oikawa wouldn’t have minded that either. But _nooooooooooo_.

How anyone could call him selfish was a big, fat liar.

Here he was, sitting in a cafe fifteen minutes and twenty seconds (yes, he timed it) away from his apartment, slamming down a piping hot cup of coffee in hopes of scalding himself as an excuse to leave.

The cafe was plain and typical of the area - mostly surrounded by university housing and at the edge of the shopping district. The train was a block away, but there had been crowds of college students both drunk and sober wandering about. Looking around, it was very likely the sober students had been using this place for a late night study session. A lot of cafes in the area were open later because of this.

Inside, Oikawa sat at a booth secluded towards the back. It was bad enough he had to venture out here as frustrated as he was - he wasn’t going to talk to anyone unnecessarily. The place smelled of freshly brewed coffee, obviously, but there was an undertone of disinfectant which was most likely an attempt to ward off the flu season. It would also explain the distinct shine on every surface as if they were using some cheap cleaners for their defenses.

Honestly, the plague was well and alive amongst most university students.

Oikawa wished he had the plague right about now. Maybe then Iwa-chan would be able to take care of him and nurse him back to pristine health.

Or hit him until he stopped faking it.

Even in passing daydreams, Iwa-chan could be such a brute.

But catching the college plague now wouldn’t be ideal. The team had prelims to look forward to, and if they qualified, they would move on to nationals. Their team was used to making it to nationals - the first time Oikawa stepped onto the national stage was because of the university team - so he wasn’t quite worried yet. It was once they reached that level that the nerves were sure to set in.

All eyes would be on them. If he was to be recruited for the pro circuit, Oikawa wouldn’t want it any other way. This was his last chance.

Oikawa sighed and shook his head, looking down at the half empty cup of coffee. All of that was to be filed away for later.

For now, he needed -

The chimes on the cafe’s door sounded off as a customer entered. Oikawa wasn’t going to admit that the sound startled him out of whatever thoughts were attempting to drown him. But that was exactly it.

He was getting antsy.

The only other person who would have enough force and leverage to take Oikawa Tooru away from more _pressing_ matters contacted him with such urgency that obviously he couldn’t have brushed this aside. There was obvious distress, and something in Oikawa’s gut was also feeling the same thing. Something about tonight…

“Tooru?”

Oikawa lifted his head, blinking quickly before plastering on a smile - the same smile he wore when something didn’t quite feel right. “Suga-chan!”

Suga smiled at Oikawa’s greeting. It was strained, but that was probably due to current circumstances. They hadn’t seen each other in person since last semester - or did that brief passing during break count? Either way, it had been a few months, and clearly whatever the reason that brought them together now was not exactly what either of them wanted.

“I’m sorry for bothering you this late,” Suga sighed as he slipped into the booth across from Oikawa. He began to undo his scarf and unbutton the light, gray jacket he wore.

“Not at all,” Oikawa waved his concern away, “I wasn’t really that busy.”

Suga simply cocked a dubious eyebrow at that but didn’t press further.

Sitting across from the Mama Bird - as dubbed in Oikawa’s phone - he could see a bit of exhaustion crinkled at the edges of his eyes. It peaked Oikawa’s curiosity to know what he had been up to, but that could be asked later. Despite the urgent tone in his text messages, Suga seemed relatively calm.

Eerily calm.

“You know, if you wanted to have coffee so late, we could have gone somewhere a bit better.” Oikawa made a face, trying to lighten the conversation before anything started.

Suga nodded, “I know, but this was closer to the library where I was studying.”

“Ah, yes, the ever studious sensei,” Oikawa smiled at him as he picked up his coffee, “always burning away the midnight oil~”

“Tooru.”

Sugawara Koushi was a very good friend. He was the type to take notice in eating and sleeping patterns and voice his concern about how that wasn’t good for your health. He would also send out reminders about midterms or finals and encourage tutoring or any extra help of any kind. Koushi was the type to unabashedly speak what was on his mind. If anyone he cared about was in a compromising position, he was the first to stand up and try to find a solution. Overprotective, probably, but he was always looking out for those he cared about most.

Which was why Oikawa had an idea about tonight’s topic at hand.

“We’re done with this, Koushi. It’s been nearly three months and he hasn’t even mentioned him once,” Oikawa sighed, dropping his eyes to what was left in his cup.

“Just because he hasn’t mentioned him,” Suga shook his head, “doesn’t mean it’s over.”

“I have a feeling, you’re not telling me something.”

Silence.

That was Suga’s way of confirming Oikawa’s suspicions. He may have known everyone’s business, but Suga was definitely more wary about releasing that information.

“Look, Koushi,” Oikawa leaned back in his booth and crossed his arms over his chest, “I _know_ it’s over. He’s studying and taking on extra practice. He’s even with Yaku right now. You were the one to send me their picture from the party.”

“That...doesn’t necessarily mean anything, Tooru,” Suga countered.

“Of course it does,” he pressed further. “Come on, Suga-chan, we all know why it didn’t work out in the first place - why it won’t work out with _anyone_ but Kenma.”

Suga took in a quick breath. 

“So...why are you so concerned about it now?”

“I got a call from Yamaguchi.”

Something twisted in Oikawa’s gut, and he felt his fingers itch for his phone. Call, text, whatever, but he suddenly felt the urge to find out where Kuroo was right now.

Suga relaxed his shoulders as he let out a long exhale. He folded his hands over the table and leaned in towards Oikawa, keeping his voice low as if they were being listened to. “Are you certain Kuroo is with Yaku right now?”

“I…” Oikawa shook his head. “Koushi, what’s going on?”

Frowning, Suga ran a hand through his silvery hair before shaking his head. “I think Tsukishima is on his way to meet with Kuroo.”

“That would be the _last_ thing Tsukishima would do.” Oikawa scoffed, giving a half-hearted laugh. “Why the hell would that even cross his mind?”

Suga just looked at him, and it was obvious how much this possibility concerned him.

It was a known fact he and Suga liked to know things about other people - not even helping themselves with this information. However, whether they acted on anything they learned about definitely differed between them. Oikawa was usually quick to intervene if it meant he could get something out of it whereas Suga often just stayed to the sideline - only butting in when absolutely necessary.

The whole KuroTsukki aftermath had been rough. Luckily, the semester busied them all with classes and practice and work, which would give the time to decompress and settle into this new normal. Oikawa and Suga had decided that keeping the pair separated would be best - thus causing them to avoid certain parties or events that would lead them to cross paths. It hadn’t been difficult given Tsukishima’s unwillingness to go out and Kuroo’s overall obliviousness.

The redirection hadn’t been as concerning as initially thought.

Oikawa made a frustrated growl before dissipating it into a sigh, running a hand over his face. “This isn’t good. How long ago was all of this?”

Suga pulled out his phone to look at the time. “Not that long ago. Yamaguchi called me just about the same time as Tsukishima leaving.”

“This is all going to blow up in his face,” Oikawa shook his head.

“You don’t think they’re going to get back together?”

Oikawa cocked an eyebrow at that. “Do you?”

“It’s...possible,” Suga muttered. “Tsukishima is still...vulnerable from it all. If Kuroo suggests it, there might be a chance -”

“No.”

“No?”

“If Kuroo suggests anything, he’s only thinking with his dick,” Oikawa stated, firm in his belief that he knew Kuroo’s patterns. “You and I both know he can’t commit to an actual relationship outside of whatever it is he has with Kenma. It was why he and Tsukishima didn’t work out in the first place.”

“Yes, but Tsukishima -”

“Knows it too,” Oikawa finished. “Trust me, if shit hits the fan, that’s when we should take action.”

“I hope you’re right,” Suga sighed, worrying his bottom lip.

Oikawa leaned in and grinned at Mama Bird. “I know I’m right~ When haven’t I been?”

Suga simply gave him a disbelieving look, narrowing his eyes and arching an eyebrow.

“You know, worrying is going to give you wrinkles,” Oikawa smirked at him before reaching out and letting his fingers catch a few strands of Suga’s hair, “it already gave you gray hairs~”

Suga rolled his eyes and batted Oikawa’s hand away from him. “Well, sitting out of all this doesn’t suit you, Tooru.”

“Who said I was sitting out of it?” Oikawa picked up his cup and finished off the rest of his coffee.

“I have a feeling you’re not telling me something.”

Oikawa smiled as Suga flipped the same accusation onto him. This was their dance - always leaving a detail or two out of each other’s grasp.

“Let’s just say,” he breathed, “I’m working on it~”

Hopeless. 

There was no way Oikawa was going to divulge anything more than that, and he didn’t have to. Everyone knew that once an idea got into his head he was going to do everything in his power to make it come true. The only concern came with time.

Oikawa glanced down at his phone, noticing a flashing light in the corner. He brought it to life and saw he had some missing messages, though none of them made him happier than seeing Iwa’s name.

 

**Iwa-chaaaaaaaan♡:**  
 _I’ll make sure to hold you to that_  
[23:35]  
 _Heading to bed, but call me if you need anything._  
[00:12]

 

“How are you and Iwaizumi doing?”

Oikawa looked up and saw Suga smiling softly at him. All hard conversations gone, a gentleness had seeped back into the latter’s eyes. Mr. Refreshing had returned, which made Tooru feel all that much better now.

“When we actually see each other? Fine, just fine,” Oikawa smiled, though even he could feel the strain in his facial muscles.

“Ah, I see,” Suga nodded knowingly. “I’m sorry again…”

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Oikawa shook his head before easing into a gentler smile. “He still likes to remind me about all the good things, though. If he has time, he makes me lunches, and we text between classes and breaks. I even got him to start sending me pictures~”

Suga chuckled lightly before he leaned into his hand to listen further. “I’m sure that took some convincing?”

“At first,” he nodded, “but now he’s more into than I thought. It’s nice to get little gifts like that throughout the day~”

“Daichi is like that too, though he sends me pictures of his lunch or his work desk. I’m trying to get him to use his front camera more, but it’s a work in progress.”

“And how is Daddy~?”

Suga’s face immediately flushed red - his eyes widening and his breath catching in his throat. He was quick to shush Oikawa’s laughter, ducking his head down to avoid any eyes. 

“T-Tooru,” he scolded, though there wasn’t much bite to it.

His reaction was priceless - always whenever someone mentioned it in public. It was hilarious how different Suga could act around others, but amongst friends, he was as devilish as Oikawa. 

Suga cleared his throat and pushed his hair back, trying to regain himself. “Daichi and I are doing fine. It’s nice having a space for just the two of us.”

“So lucky,” Oikawa pouted. “I bet it’s nice~”

“Very. Our previous roommates were rather questionable,” he sighed, leaning into his hand with a careful smile, “but now, it’s just comfortable.”

“Oh? So when’s the wedding~?”

Oikawa watched as Suga’s face froze for a moment before slowly opening up. Reading expressions was child’s play, and the vulnerability splayed out across his face revealed so much. He had only said it to be teasing, however…

“Are you and Dai -”

_Ring! Ring! Ring!_

Saved by the phone call, Suga quickly answered as if his life depended on it - not even checking the caller ID, probably welcoming a telemarketer for all he cared. “Hello?”

Oikawa sighed to himself and sat back in his booth, barely listening to the conversation across from him. He couldn’t quite make out the owner’s voice that was on the other line, but he did recognize an edge to their tone. Suga often was everyone’s source for advice or comfort in a crisis, and with midterms still ongoing, nothing would be so surprising.

They were panicked, but this wasn’t a typical reaction. 

No screaming or shouting from what Oikawa could make out, which crossed off a good amount of possibilities of whom they could be. 

The reason why he suspected panic was by how even the tone came out - very controlled and very forced. Most of Suga’s usual complain-ers came from rather high energy individuals, resulting in outbursts of crying or yelling. He hadn’t heard anyone direct those outbursts at Suga himself, and Oikawa guessed that if they did, Suga would still try to walk them through their crisis.

That was the type of person he was.

“He did what?”

Those three words rushed to the pit of Oikawa’s stomach. His bad feeling he’d had since showing up to the cafe immediately resurfaced, and he didn’t care that he was staring directly at Suga now.

Oikawa needed to know what this phone call was about.

Now.

He sat forward, trying to pick up on any keywords from the caller. They were talking rather quickly, stringing words together and making it difficult to separate information.

“Okay...Okay, do you need...Do you need me to come to you?” Suga remained calm as he handled the conversation. He definitely sounded angry - that much was clear by the grit in his teeth - but he managed to speak clearly and effectively for the sake of whoever was on the other line.

“Kou…?” Oikawa quietly mouthed Suga’s name but was met with a hand to refrain from speaking. Normally, he didn’t take to such conditions, but this was Suga and an exceptional circumstance.

“Alright,” Suga released a breath and nodded to no one, “I will handle it. Please, get home safe.”

As soon as he clicked his phone off, Oikawa didn’t waste time. “Who was it?”

Suga looked directly into Oikawa’s eyes - the wrath of a protective friend staring right at him. “Shit hit the fan.”

“What...do you mean?”

“I need you to look up Kuroo’s current location.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long waited suspense! I wanted to get back on my usual posting day (*ΦωΦ*)
> 
> I originally had these scenes flipped so Oikawa's POV was first and then switched to Kenma's, but this seems like a better format~ Feeling a bit more comfortable writing from Kenma's POV, and I'm happy to include more characters lol Little appearances here and there make the world go round so be sure to expect more character cameos and interactions (ﾉΦωΦ)ﾉ
> 
> The more I write this story the more I want to also branch out and do oneshots of other couples or character studies with little headcanon scenarios that happened in the past or what's happening during this timeline lol I may already be outlining a mini/limited prequel KuroTsukki fic ～((Φ◇Φ)‡ Would y'all be interested in that???
> 
> Anyways, tune in next time! ;)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Beside him, Kuroo heard Tsukishima click his tongue in irritation. “Just...start with tonight. What happened?”_
> 
> _Tsukki had always been able to look at him as if he saw right through all the bullshit and walls Kuroo put up. He was quick to catch on to quick subtle changes in behaviors and wasn’t afraid to call him out on shit. He was ruthless when he wanted to know the truth._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you couldn't tell from the foreshadowing in the previous chapter, there will be a slight focus on KuroTsuki in this chapter (ΦωΦ) And things...happen, so if this is absolutely a NOTP for you, just skip to the end notes at the bottom of the chapter! I'll summarize the important plot points~
> 
> For those of you putting up with my slow burn bullshit, strap in and enjoy the ride~

**[00:00] Saturday**

 

“Kuroo.”

Time had restarted like a computer being turned off and on again. The background noise of the city came back to life as horns blared and idle chatter passed by in troves of people. While everything had paused for him, nothing truly stopped. 

Kuroo released the breath he’d been holding - surprised with how even the exhale came out. He let a slight smile ghost his lips as his hands clenched the chain suspensions of his swing. A rush of mixed feelings swirled in his chest, but he decided to settle on the warmth of the gesture. Doubts of him not coming had been welling up, but they all dissipated the moment he felt that hand and heard his voice.

This was real.

He twisted around on the swing, crossing the chains in front of him and causing the hand to drop from his shoulder. To mask the anxiety of all of this, Kuroo felt the corner of his mouth twitched up into a smirk. It was a comfortable habit, allowing him to shut out all the unknowns, and right now, that was entirely welcomed because he didn’t know what he was expecting at all.

Kuroo, being only a few centimeters off the ground, looked up at his invited guest.

Tsukishima Kei was indeed taller from this angle - though he’d always been a few centimeters taller. Not much had changed in the last three months. Maybe his hair looked slightly longer, curling at the tops of his ears and a little bit more down his neck, but that was it. His face was tinged pink from the walk over with the tip of his nose and ears fronting the most exposure, and his glasses appeared to be a bit fogged from simply breathing. He was more than dressed for the colder temperatures, sporting a scarf to further brace himself.

Kuroo’s fingers itched to unravel that scarf.

But their eyes locked together, keeping him from acting on any of those impulses. Tsukki’s gaze was harsh and punishing, speaking a lot louder than any words could. Kuroo knew this was how he communicated and remembered how well he could read those looks. Right now, he wished he had forgotten all of that.

“My...look at what the cat dragged in,” Kuroo hummed, peeking through the chain links.

Tsukki simply crossed his arms over his chest, releasing little puffs of hot air in his silence.

“It’s good to see you, Tsukki,” Kuroo continued, swaying slightly now. “Did you take the long way to get here? Thought you’d never show~”

He tried to play with him, taunting him even, because that was what came naturally. Kuroo wanted to poke the beast and see what would happen.

“Could have made me wait the whole night -”

“Kuroo.”

Tsukki’s tone was sharp, cutting off whatever pitiful attempt this was...at whatever _this_ was. 

Teasing?

Flirting? 

Maybe...A knee-jerk habit at this point.

Whatever it was, Tsukki was making it clear that he was having _none_ of it. He stood firmly at the edge of the swing set with his body rigid and closed off. He was being cautious with keeping his distance.

Kuroo didn’t like that.

He wanted to see the Tsukki whose softness escaped from his eyes and the corners of his mouth. Where was the Tsukki whose voice came out as dull apathy even though he was being genuine and sincere? This Tsukki was curt and defensive and...different. It was almost like a digression back to whom he was before - completely shut out and kept everyone at an arm’s length (and Tsukki had long arms). His silent anger radiated off of him, surrounding them both with an oppressive tension.

“Why did you call me?”

Again, the pointedness of his voice struck through Kuroo. He had to suppress a flinch, though his eyes dropped to the ground briefly.

Shrugging, he simply muttered, “I don’t know.”

It was his honest response. Kuroo had a whole list of contacts he could have called or texted or even gone to see, but he didn’t choose them. Instead, the last person he expected to have seen him or talked to him was standing right in front of him. He didn’t really think this through and did what his gut had told him to do.

“What do you want, Kuroo?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then why did you _call_ me?”

“I,” Kuroo looked up at Tsukishima with his words caught in his throat. His chest felt tight as the look in Tsukki’s eyes changed ever so slightly.

They had been fierce just a moment ago - a blazing amber filled with unsettled anger. But just now, they had softened. Fractionally. The anger was still there in the way Tsukki’s jaw was clenched and his fingers dug into his crossed forearms, but for a split second, Kuroo imagined _that_ look once more.

The last look Kei had given him before calling off their whole arrangement.

Kuroo swallowed another “I don’t know” response and sighed. He untwisted himself on the swing, letting his back face Tsukki now, and kicked the dirt he had piled up - losing his own edge. “I...needed to talk to someone.”

The honesty in his own voice nearly surprised himself, but he stayed firm with that response. It was the truth, and maybe his subconscious thought Tsukishima was the best to kick his ass out of whatever funk this was.

Silence followed after that confession for a few moments. The hum of city life buzzed around the small park, which was nice because if Kuroo had been in actual silence he would have gone insane. That calculating pause would be the death of him.

And then finally a sigh.

Kuroo felt as if he had won some small victory.

Tsukki shifted forward, walking to the empty swing beside Kuroo and taking a seat. He didn’t look at him and kept his eyes trained forward. “If you need to talk, then talk,” he told him. The tone of his voice had lost a touch of its bite, opening up with Kuroo’s sincerity. 

Kuroo blinked at him. 

Was this really happening?

Not only did Tsukishima answer his text, but he also came to meet him. He was here right now willing to listen to whatever the fuck was going wrong with Kuroo, and this was...real, right? 

“Oh, uh, well,” Kuroo cleared his throat elegantly before turning his head to look at him, “how are you?”

Tsukki snapped his head to glare back at him. There was a subtle twitch to his eye, which was clear that small talk was definitely not the way to go.

Kuroo let out a nervous laugh. Somehow he had expected that.

Okay, so if small talk was out of the question, how was he supposed to jump right into this conversation? Finding start points was not his specialty lately. He didn’t want to bombard and overwhelm Tsukki right off the bat with all the spiraling questions in his head.

He had thought he’d done a good job earlier, sorting through all the different relationships he’d had up until now. Using Yaku’s prompted question had been a good way of approaching certain things. But he had lost his train of thought when Tsukki arrived.

Beside him, Kuroo heard Tsukishima click his tongue in irritation. “Just...start with tonight. What happened?”

Tsukki had always been able to look at him as if he saw right through all the bullshit and walls Kuroo put up. He was quick to catch on to quick subtle changes in behaviors and wasn’t afraid to call him out on shit. He was ruthless when he wanted to know the truth.

“I...didn’t really think about it to be honest,” Kuroo confided, “Before I knew it, I...was already pulling your number up. I’ve been wanting to talk with you for awhile.”

“You have?” He sounded surprised as an eyebrow arched its way up in full skepticism.

Kuroo nodded. “You know...I was hooking up with someone, and we stopped...tonight. It was the first time since...well,” he gestured between the both of them, “it was mutual, but still, it wasn’t the same.”

Tsukishima simply watched him. Intently. His eyes had lost another degree of hostility and replaced it this time with curiosity. He was rather attentive as he listened to Kuroo force his words out.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat as he stared back. Kuroo had always been confident with his words, knowing when to tell the truth or say what the other person wanted him to say. And yet that special ability only failed him when it came to three people.

Tsukishima Kei was one of them.

There had only been one other person in Kuroo’s life that could put him in his place. He actually took comfort in knowing someone could look beyond what he wanted to portray. Maybe that was their initial spark?

Of course the attraction had been immediate. It was even mutual. As he sat beside him again, Kuroo couldn’t stop thinking about all of that. Everything came flooding back all at once - all of the late night phone calls, surprise visits, and of course the sex. 

Kuroo had really enjoyed that last aspect a lot.

Being with Tsukki had been fun, and believe it or not, it had also been exciting. Tsukishima had kept him on his toes and definitely captured his attention. He had been a new experiment to Kuroo, wanting to take note of all the little changes and witness all the different reactions that Tsukki could possibly produce.

And he was sure it hadn’t been just one-sided. As always, Kuroo started out upfront about his intentions when they hung out more and more. Boundaries had to have been made and kept - dividing what was “yes” and “no” - and that had all been accepted by Tsukki. Immediately. There had been no wavering discussions or judgement.

Kei had understood all of this from the beginning and yet -

“Kuroo?”

“Why did you end things?” 

Tsukishima just blinked at him. Clearly, that question wasn’t what he was expecting for Kuroo to just blurt out. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and tried to look away, hiding his eyes from giving away anything.

Classic move.

“I still...can’t understand that.” Kuroo continued with his earlier honesty. Might as well dump it all, right?

Tsukki remained silent.

But that didn’t matter. Kuroo twisted his swing slightly so that his whole body could face his, using the strength in his legs to ground himself both physically and mentally. “Don’t you remember the times when you would call for chem help? Was kinda hard explaining it over the phone, so I remember I ended up at your place more times than I could count.”

“Kuroo…”

“Or what about the times I was busy on campus and had to cancel plans? You always showed up with some take out and just talked to me while I worked,” Kuroo added, laughing. “Remember the time I nearly blew up one of the labs ‘cause you showed up without any warning? Scared the shit out of me! Man, that was a close one for sure…”

“Stop.”

“And I know you’re not on your divisional team,” he continued over Tsukki’s softer voice, not even hearing him, “but you still asked for more pointers, and we stayed at the gym until neither of us could move. I can remember when you said you didn’t care about volleyball~ Oh, how times have changed~”

“Cut it out,” Tsukki growled beside him.

Kuroo just blinked and cocked an eyebrow at the snap.

Tsukishima took in a breath to steel himself and bite back whatever nasty comment that wanted to surface first. He finally looked back at Kuroo with that unbridled anger. “It was all an arrangement, as you said, remember? Things just...didn’t work out.”

Kuroo pouted slightly at that. From his standpoint, everything had been going great. “So...you’re saying it wasn’t fun?”

“Well...no.”

“Did I do anything I shouldn’t have done?” 

“No.”

“Then what was it?”

“It was going to end, so I ended it,” Tsukki sighed exasperatedly. He looked away from Kuroo again with the corners of his mouth tugged downward.

Kuroo didn’t like his answer. It didn’t make sense. He knew that he was going to die someday, so did that mean he was going to get a jump on that? No. Kuroo was going to just enjoy the moment...but it seemed not everyone had that mindset, huh?

“That...isn’t a good reason,” he murmured.

“You want a good reason?” Tsukki laughed sarcastically, turning slightly to face Kuroo again. “Do you not remember anything?”

Kuroo blinked.

“You are so dense. Do you not remember the fighting?”

“Well, yeah, I remember that,” he nodded before stretching out another smirk, “but did you forget what came after?”

“I’m not talking about that.”

“Why not? It was all good. You got _really_ into it too,” Kuroo purred and began to lean into Tsukki’s swing. 

He had expected Tsukishima to pull away - was all prepared for it too - but he had to just keep surprising Kuroo tonight. The younger man stood firm almost defiant as he watched Kuroo move closer to him. He wasn’t quite breaching personal space, but if you give Kuroo an inch, he would take a mile.

And Kuroo did just that.

Seeing Tsukishima not pull away gave him a little confidence. Kuroo didn’t want to make him uncomfortable and knew when “no” meant “no.” But all he did was look at him.

Kuroo decided to test it.

He gripped his own swing to keep steady and suppress a good portion of his temptations. Kuroo forwarded his action and careened his neck to better angle his face. Pressing his cheek to Tsukki’s, his lips were close to the shell of his ear, and he couldn’t bite back the impulse. So he blew lightly and felt the reacting shiver, expecting some sort of outburst that told him he went too far, but there was still nothing.

Smiling, Kuroo couldn’t resist this now, “I always liked it when you were a little rough~ Cool, stoic Tsukki pushing me up against the wall or onto the floor.”

Tsukki’s breath hitched.

“You were always so thorough too,” he purred, letting hot air escape against Tsukki’s seemingly guarded neck. “I swear you did it just to torture me, hm?”

“Kuroo…”

“I miss how you would fuck me nice and slow~”

“Jesus Christ, Tetsurou,” Tsukki growled, finally pushing Kuroo away from him as he stood up. “What the hell are you doing bringing that up _now_?”

Kuroo’s swing swayed back and forth from the push, but he didn’t lose his balance. Instead, his eyes made sure to follow after Tsukki.

He felt another small win come over him - a glutton for future punishment.

Tsukki’s face had reddened extensively, and it wasn’t because of the cold. He had taken a few more steps away from the swing set despite Kuroo remaining in his seat. It was always a curious sight to see Tsukki get flustered - usually so composed and impassive, but all it took was slight dirty talk to unravel him. It made him so pliable.

“You always liked it when I said things like that,” Kuroo pouted albeit childishly, pushing his bottom lip out for emphasis. 

Tsukki looked at him with his face still red and his mouth turned down into a scowl. “Did not.”

“Did too~”

“Did not.”

“Did too~”

“Di - Stop that,” Tsukki sighed, shaking his head to get rid of the childish banter.

Kuroo finally got up from his own swing, seeing how Tsukki wasn’t going to come back over, and just shortened the space between them by a few steps. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and shrugged. “Alright, but I wasn’t lying about what I said.”

Tsukishima pinched the bridge of his nose, shifting his glasses upwards. He took in a deep breath, held it, then finally released it. When he resettled himself, his eyes returned to meet Kuroo’s and that same “look” had returned. He was holding tight onto some sort of emotion that was just as foreign to him as it was to Kuroo.

“It was all a bad idea,” Tsukki finally told him. 

“I don’t know what the hell you mean by that,” Kuroo took a step forward, closing the distance between them just a bit more.

Tsukki shook his head again, giving a hollow laugh. “We’re not _good_ for each other, Tetsurou.”

Kuroo scoffed back, “What do you mean ‘not good’? It was some of the best fucking sex of my life.”

“That’s,” Tsukki looked away, “not the point.”

“We can go back to doing that again.”

Tsukki simply narrowed his eyes at him.

“What? Are you seeing anyone?” Kuroo asked.

“No.”

“Am I suddenly unattractive to you now?”

Tsukki purposefully paused as he stared at Kuroo. They both knew the answer to that thanks to the reaction a minute ago.

“Then why did you end the arrangement, Kei?”

“This,” Tsukki gritted his teeth, clenching his hands at his sides, “was a waste of time. You haven’t changed at all.”

As he turned to leave, Kuroo reached out reflexively and caught his wrist, locking into a firm and steady grip. This was probably the only chance he was going to get, so he wasn’t going to let go until he got his answer. He felt Tsukki’s pulse jump at the contact - cold hands and warm exposed skin could create a shocking distraction.

Kuroo could feel him start to cave. The tension in his arm crumbled as he took a step back, loosening his shoulder and creating slack. He took a deep breath before very slowly turning his head to look at Kuroo once more.

And there was that look again.

All of Tsukki’s anger had ebbed away - his defiance shattered and replaced with vulnerability. He almost looked pained as they just stood there. For once, Tsukishima didn’t fight back. There was no salty comeback or witty rebuttal. Instead, he left himself wide open for Kuroo to finally put his finger on that extra _something_ he’d seen three months ago.

Defeat.

But there was no anger to ground him.

“Are you...really sure about that?”

Kuroo could tell Tsukki wanted to look away, but he didn’t. Their eyes stayed trained on each other until the latter lost a bit more.

“...No,” Tsukki breathed, shaking slightly now - whether from the cold or Kuroo’s hand, he wasn’t sure. Maybe a little bit of both.

But hearing his answer, Kuroo felt a slight swell of hope well up in his chest. If he could fix all of this and go back to how it was a few months ago, then everything would go back to normal. That was his solution to all of this. Sure, he couldn’t physically reverse time, but if this worked - well, just call him a walking time-turner.

Slowly, Kuroo tugged on Tsukki’s wrist and reeled him in closer until he easily hooked his arm around his waist. Tsukishima did press his hand to Kuroo’s chest, but there was no strength there. His fingers simply ran up and down the opened zipper of Kuroo’s jacket with the tips of his fingers lightly grazing Kuroo’s t-shirt underneath.

Kuroo shivered at the faint touch, having been numb to the cold this entire time already, and sighed. His breath fanned out between them, slightly fogging Tsukki’s glasses which caused him to lift his head and bring his attention back to Kuroo’s face. Their noses touched as they came eye-to-eye with each other. Blood pounded in his ears and his pulse skipped a few beats.

There was a pause.

And then Kuroo barely had to lean in to catch Tsukki’s lips.

They were warm despite the cold - a little chapped but that didn’t bother him. Kuroo let the rest of Tsukki catch up before pressing further. When his mouth opened in a gasp, it was more than enough leverage to deepen the kiss, licking the inside of Tsukki’s mouth. His tongue caught the edge of Tsukki’s teeth, running over a sharp incisor. He didn’t want to ruin the moment too soon, so he kept himself in check by pulling back and keeping slow.

Kuroo’s hand released Tsukki’s wrist and moved up to caress his cheek. His thumb traced an even circle into his skin, feeling the slight bristle of facial hair. It was an appealing contrast as Tsukki’s hair was so light that no one usually noticed the lazy grooming habits unless up close. And not everyone could get this close.

It was like being chosen.

Tsukki’s hands found purchase in Kuroo’s t-shirt underneath his jacket now that his shock seemed to have worn off. He finally became responsive as he bit down on Kuroo’s bottom lip. Kuroo made a noise in the back of his throat but didn’t back down. He had gone slow for Tsukki’s sake, but if he was going to have a say, Kuroo was more than willing to comply.

That must have been the right reaction because Tsukki only dug his fingers more into Kuroo’s shirt, pressing into his chest now. He took a step forward, and Kuroo moved with him, stumbling back. Tsukki growled before he used this to his advantage, pushing Kuroo back until he hit the pole of the swing set behind him. Kuroo winced slightly when his head met the metal pole, gasping at the impact.

Tsukishima must have used that moment to fully take control because Kuroo melted against his lips. Kisses pressed to his lips, his jaw, and down his neck. Wherever he left himself exposed to the cold, he was also exposed to Tsukki. For the first time since being out tonight, Kuroo felt warmth spreading out underneath his skin.

Kuroo’s hands went to the buttons on Tsukki’s coat, opening him up so that he could press his palm flat against his stomach. The cotton shirt underneath was the only thing separating him from skin. His fingers trailed down to feel the faint ridges of firm muscle beneath his clothes before stopping at the top button of Tsukki’s jeans. He managed to push up the t-shirt with one hand while the other pressed into the exposed hip bone, dragging a hiss from Tsukki’s lips.

At the hot and cold skin-on-skin contact, Tsukki pressed into him more so that Kuroo’s entire spine was lined up to the pole. With their hips pinned against each other, Kuroo had lost his little vantage point; however, he did discover the semi developing in Tsukki’s pants. Kuroo moaned as he tried to line up his own half hard dick with Tsukki’s - using the pressure and friction from their jeans for some sort of relief.

Tsukki pulled away and gasped as soon as he realized what Kuroo was trying to accomplish. And in response, all Kuroo did was smile up at him, letting the corners of his mouth lazily tug upward. His hands dug into Tsukki’s hips as he pushed up into him, only feeling his jeans get tighter.

Tsukki gasped again, hot air coming out in pants between them, and let his head drop to Kuroo’s shoulder. His hands immediately went to catch Kuroo’s wrists and stopped the movement.

Kuroo smirked, feeling playful, before saying, “What…? Too much for you, Kitten?”

Tsukishima’s head snapped up so fast he nearly collided with Kuroo’s jaw. His eyes that had just been glazed over with the same desire as Kuroo’s rapidly sobered up. “Don’t you _dare_ ,” he hissed, “call _me_ that.”

All smugness drained from him as Kuroo blinked, “Huh?”

“Just stop!” Tsukki yelled, pulling back and running a hand through his hair. His glasses were still a bit skewed and his coat was completely unbuttoned with his t-shirt rumpled out of place.

“Wha...why?” Kuroo shook his head, clearly confused by the sudden turn in events.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Tsukki said, his body shaking, “I just can’t!”

Kuroo grunted as he took a step forward, wanting to close the space between them, but Tsukki matched his step backward. He obviously wanted space - fine - but for what reason?

“Why, Kei, why now?”

“Because.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“ _Because_.”

“No, stop,” Kuroo gritted his teeth, “just _tell me_! I don’t understand any of this! Why the fuck are you doing this _again_?”

Tsukishima had been pacing when he suddenly stopped. Kuroo had never seen him so agitated before. Even when they used to fight, Tsukki had always stood his ground and met him eye-to-eye on each point. This was just a bit too...erratic? Out of character, for sure…

Looking at him, something broke behind his eyes.

“Because I’m _in love with you_ , shithead!”

Kuroo just stared at Tsukishima as if he suddenly grew a second head. For the last three months, he had been wondering what the reason had been. There hadn’t been any suspected signs of disinterest like his previous hook-ups and arrangements. So when Tsukki had called everything off that had thrown him for a loop. When things were good, you shouldn’t have to stop them - that’s exactly what he thought - but was Tsukki’s thinking really that backwards?

Love?

He watched as Tsukishima calmed himself down, taking deep breaths and slowly buttoning up his coat again. Kuroo was actually speechless as he tried to make sense of what just happened.

“Since...when?” Kuroo managed to croak out.

His voice caught Tsukki’s attention, though he gave a hollow laugh first, “Since when? Since we were dating.”

“We didn’t date.” His automatic response was firm and without hesitation.

“Right,” Tsukki rolled his eyes, thinking otherwise, “we just went out for nearly a year, but we never dated.”

Kuroo nodded.

“God, you’re impossible. Listen,” Tsukki pinched the bridge of his nose again, “I just can’t do this anymore. Unless your feelings have changed, _this_ ,” he gestured between them, “isn’t going to happen ever again.”

“I mean...I care about you, Kei,” Kuroo told him, tilting his head to the side.

“That’s _not_ the same thing, Tetsurou,” Tsukki growled back before crossing his arms. “All of this would be meaningless. Stupid. I’m not just something you have sex with and then pine over someone else.”

Kuroo blinked, “Pine over someone…?”

“Forget it. You still haven’t realized.”

“Kei, look, I’m sorry,” Kuroo ran his hand through his hair and shot Tsukki a sincere look, “but sex is just sex. It doesn’t have to mean anything, you know.”

Tsukki’s mouth was pressed into a thin line as his eyes bore into him.

“All of this is just stress relief, yeah? Friends can always help each other out.”

“You know what, Kuroo,” Tsukki threw his hands up in exasperation, “I don’t need this. I never _asked_ for it. And right now, I can’t even look at you.”

“Tsukki -”

“Don’t.” He held up a finger. “Don’t text me, don’t call me, just don’t. Three months clearly wasn’t enough to get over all of this.”

“Fine,” Kuroo took a step back and held his arms out, “then I’ll go!”

He quickly stuffed his hands into his pockets and didn’t bother to zip up his leather jacket - instead wanting to go back to that numbing cold. Kuroo needed to get away from the park and clear his head.

Or maybe forgetting all of this was the better option.

It was still early in the nightlife scene that he could probably get in somewhere and drink himself stupid. He was done trying to get to the bottom of things. Well, at least he had one answer now, but that did him no good. If love was what drove away Tsukishima, then Kuroo had been right in not letting himself get caught up in it himself.

Love was nothing but trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya know, I don't know why I chose to start writing at this point in Kuroo's life ヾ(*ΦωΦ)ﾉ Ending of one relationship, not yet recognizing his feelings for another relationship, and on top of all this, it's his senior year at uni >.>
> 
> Anyways! Plot points for those that may have skipped the KuroTsuki interaction. Here's what you'll need to take away:  
> \- Kuroo and Tsukki were in relationship (tho Kuroo calls it an arrangement 'cause he has commitment issues)  
> \- Tsukki was catching feelings HARD (drops the L-word in this chapter) and broke off their arrangement 3 months ago  
> \- Kuroo never knew why Tsukki broke things off and wanted answers before he feels he can move forward with anything in his life (aka his biggest distraction atm)  
> \- Kuroo thinks if he's with Tsukki again things will just go back to being easy and carefree, so he tries to get back together with him  
> \- Tsukki nearly caves until Kuroo reminds him why things won't go the way he wants (aka Kuroo's density increases)  
> \- Frustrated, Kuroo leaves the park, knowing nothing has changed and he's just as confused as ever
> 
> We're not done with Tsukki yet (=ↀωↀ=)✧ He'll be coming back for sure along with a few more characters, but I want to integrate them all naturally, so have some more patience with me~ It's a wild night for everyone ;)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This would be the point in the game Kenma would have the option of saving his file. This could be another triggered event. What if this changed the ending? There were answers he had yet to achieve and content that was yet unlocked._
> 
> _However, Kenma was curious to know something beyond all of that._
> 
> _After all of these years letting his emotions develop, did he love Kuroo for the person he was or was it because he had been the only person to get that close to him?_

**[1:00] Saturday**

 

Games were originally designed to be linear. The protagonist was introduced first with a simple objective, and once that objective was met, the game was completed. However, games were never just going to stay with that same formula. Sooner or later party members would become available, side quests could be unlocked, and with improved graphics came with the need to expand maps and explore.

Life was much like the same.

When you were little, everything seemed rather linear - go to school, go to club, come home. The routine was developed quite easily and could be maintained much longer than any game. But as you grew, so did the world around you. Life was a lot more complex than initially designed.

Kenma had taken a bit longer to get back, but when he arrived home, the living room was vacated and Keiji’s door was shut. He also noticed that Lev’s door was closed while Shoyou’s was still open - meaning one was home while the other wasn’t. Not wanting to focus on _any_ of that, though, he had gone straight to his room to crawl into bed.

He was tired, exhausted really, but his body wasn’t going to shut down and fall asleep yet. There was a lot to think about, and yet, his mind was left blank.

Taking out his phone, he checked the battery before opening up one of his favorite mobile games. They were a lot more mindless and accessible than finding his hand held games or turning on his computer or consoles. In times of zero motivation, mobile games were life savers.

Tapping the screen was rather therapeutic. He gathered all the points, coins, and keys for his daily collection in each mobile game he had on his phone. Kenma rarely used the in-game currencies, but they did come in handy for certain situations. By dropping a few points here and there he could unlock certain paths or even restart files if he didn’t get endings he didn’t want.

Unfortunately this was not how life worked.

No amount of money could let you completely restart without any consequences. And sometimes knowing that fact was painful.

There were plenty of things Kenma wished he could restart like that. There would be simple adjustments at first. His test grades would be higher, his social circle would be smaller, and he would have eaten a bit more. And for the more complex do-overs - well, they were complex for a reason.

He wouldn’t have “done over” where he chose for school, despite middle school, high school, and even university all being the same places where his best friend also attended. But those schools had been the best academically for him too.

He wouldn’t have “done over” joining volleyball back in high school either. As much as he complained about the physical aspects of the sport, Kenma had truly loved the game. He would always owe Kuroo for that - though the one verbal “thank you” was enough to express that sentiment.

And Kenma definitely wouldn’t have “done over” being friends with Kuroo. He would admit that his life would have been rather dull without the man in his life. Kuroo was and always would be his best friend - even in other saved files. 

So maybe his storyline wouldn’t have turned out much differently. But there was one thing he often thought about redoing: his feelings towards his best friend.

The longer Kenma waited for Kuroo to recognize his feelings the more painful it was to be around him. For the longest time, he thought he was the only one especially close with Kuroo, but after seeing him interact with Tsukishima and practically date him - though Kuroo would deny that to this day - Kenma began to worry. 

What if this was all just one-sided?

That was one of the reasons why he needed space from Kuroo, purposely “ignoring” texts and phone calls even though he regularly checked for those messages. Kenma was trying to put distance between staying friends and wanting something more.

And it was killing him.

There was a soft _click_ from the front door, which was easily heard in the silence of the entire flat. Considering the earlier surveyance, Kenma assumed that it was Shoyou returning home.

Feeling the repressed emotions coming to surface after everything tonight, Kenma knew he needed to talk to someone - though he was sure he wasn’t going to say much. It was more like he needed the presence of someone with positive energy to cancel out his own negativity. It was another reason why he was spending more time with Shoyou than before.

Kenma got up from his bed and went over to his door, cracking it open. Even though it was completely dark in the living room, he could see a fair amount of the layout. Shoyou’s sunburnt head of hair stuck out even in utter darkness, and he watched as Shoyou made his way towards their hallway.

Just as Shoyou was tiptoeing his way past his door, Kenma reached out and touched his arm.

“GA -”

Kenma had fast reflexes when he needed them and managed to clap a hand over Shoyou’s mouth before any of their roommates could wonder what was going on.

Shoyou’s eyes were wide as he adjusted to the darkness - though looking over at Kenma did seem to ease away his startled expression. Now calm, Kenma released his hold from Shoyou’s face and motioned for the latter to follow him inside his bedroom.

It was nice having Shoyou as a roommate. Kenma had been certain that he wasn’t going to accept the offer of moving in with him and Keiji considering they didn’t even go to the same school - Kenma would have bet the crow would have chosen to room with Tobio and Tadashi instead. Although he was happy with the final decision, the only condition was for Lev to also room with them, which Kenma could have done without - not that he didn’t like Lev.

Shoyou was the type of presence in the apartment, though, that easily cleared out any lingering anxiety or tension. He made it easier for Kenma to “socialize” with people who visited the flat - reminding him that he couldn’t stay cooped up in his room.

During these last couple of months where Kenma was going on Kuroo withdrawal, Shoyou had provided a much needed substitute - checking in on him and just being there when he needed him most.

Kenma went over to his bed and sat cross-legged with his hands in his lap and his back up against the wall. It was a comfortable, open position, which made it a bit more relaxing when he needed to talk about something with someone. 

Shoyou, however, kept a bit of distance and sat at Kenma’s desk, sitting backwards so that his legs were spread and he could rest his chin on the back of the chair. If he had been a few centimeters shorter, that position would have been uncomfortable for sure.

Looking into the room, someone would have thought there was a lag in the game, or they were put on pause. But the silence was fine. Shoyou never rushed him and had greatly developed his patience by being Kenma’s friend, so he waited until Kenma felt when it was right to speak.

“Were you with Tobio tonight?” 

It was an educated guess, and it broke the stillness of the room.

Shoyou blinked, “How did you…?” And then he laughed softly, running his fingers through his hair before plastering that brilliant smile across his face. “Yeah, we were practicing some tosses and running drills. Lev was with us too!”

“Lev? I see,” Kenma nodded, noting the difference in arrivals.

“Yeah, but he left after a call,” Shoyou waved his hand in the air. “Kageyama and I didn’t mind too much. It just meant I got more tosses.”

“You don’t have to push yourself, Shoyou. I’m sure your practice game tomorrow will be fine.”

“This is my chance though Kenma!” Shoyou’s eyes lit up, and Kenma swore the room grew a bit brighter in the darkness. “I’m gonna show Coach how much I’ve improved, so that way he has to put me on the first string. If I’m on the first string, I get to play more matches, and I can rub it into Stingyshima’s face, and I can hit Kageyama’s tosses for real again, and -”

Shoyou was easily excited, but when it came to volleyball, he was next-level enthusiastic. It had taken some getting used to - having thought Kuroo or Lev was bad enough - but Kenma actually liked to listen to the crow babble on. A lot of the things that made up Shoyou, Kenma actually disliked in other people, but there was just something about him that drew him in. His gravity was inescapable but not unwanted.

In a way, Shoyou was a lighter version of Kuroo.

Kenma found comfort in both of their outgoing natures, despite not being as forward as them, and enjoyed how they both could talk endlessly - even if he told them to be quiet, they never really would. They both knew when Kenma would try to get out of doing something and would push him beyond his shell. Both of them saw his potential and wanted the best, knowing how much Kenma saw it as troublesome effort. Their similarities were quite noticeable, which always made it that much funnier whenever Kuroo became jealous over Shoyou.

The biggest difference between the two of them, however, had to be their emotional awareness of others.

Kuroo was dense when it came to the reasoning behind other people’s emotions. He could pick up the change in behavior or attitudes, yes, but the “why” factor was always a hit or miss.

Shoyou, on the other hand, was very observant on someone’s emotional standing. He didn’t always have the most conventional tactics when it came to helping, but he was sure to do something.

“- and that’s when I become a star on the national team!” Shoyou had continued his ranting goals, not even phased by Kenma tuning him out. When he got into one of those spirals, he became very animated - having just now moved from the desk chair to proudly posing at the edge of Kenma’s bed.

Kenma took two long blinks as he readjusted his focus back to his passionate friend. His earlier blankness was now filled with too many thoughts to sift through on his own. So there was no helping the next thing that came unfiltered from his mouth: “Have you ever been in love?”

Shoyou, on the other hand, had prepared to continue. His mouth was open wide when Kenma’s voice cut right through him, stopping the next spiraling topic.

“Huh?” He tilted his head.

It took a moment for Kenma to register that his own question was said aloud. As embarrassing as it was, he couldn’t just take back his words.

“Do you know what it feels like to be in love?” He re-phrased the question in an attempt to make the meaning clearer.

“L-Love…?” Shoyou’s face steadily flushed red as he tried to swallow around the new lump in his throat.

Kenma watched as he processed the question, growing more and more flustered as the silence between them stretched out. 

Shoyou was always expressive and never really could hide the thoughts that passed through him. Kenma knew Shoyou was embarrassed by the question from the way he tried to start an answer but immediately closed his mouth, doing this several times. He didn’t have to answer right away - honestly, Kenma didn’t mean to even ask the question - but it peaked his curiosity to know what exactly the other man thought about the feeling.

After about a minute of watching Shoyou start and stop his sentences, Kenma simply sighed and decided to give him an out, “You don’t have to answer, Shoyou.”

“No, no, no,” he shook his head, “I’m just...thinking.”

Kenma blinked at that - his interest returning and keeping him quiet.

“I’m not sure if I’ve ever been in love,” Shoyou started, blushing slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck, “but I’ve had these...feelings, you know? They can get intense and make my stomach feel all ‘guwah’ and my chest pound like ‘begauh’! But I...don’t really say anything.”

“Why?”

“I guess I’m just...scared,” he admitted with a sigh. “It’s a different feeling than going up against an opponent ‘cause like that’s scary too, but it’s also exciting, you know? Thinking about this feeling kind of makes me feel sick, and I back out of saying anything…”

Kenma nodded knowingly. There had been plenty of opportunities for himself to say something in similar situations, but instead, he opted out and always held his tongue back.

Shoyou sat down on Kenma’s bed and hunched forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. His head hung a bit low, and he didn’t meet Kenma’s eyes as he continued to speak. “I care about them too much, I think, and I don’t want to ruin what I have with them, you know? So I’ll go extra hard with volleyball or something, but that doesn’t get rid of this feeling so easily…”

“So you have never tried anything with them?”

“What do you mean?” Shoyou raised his head and finally looked over at Kenma. The conflict swirling behind his eyes was evident now with their closer proximity. Kenma recognized it immediately as that was the same pool of anxiety and uncertainty that glossed over his own.

Kenma took in a deep breath. He needed to be careful with his words around Shoyou - not because he couldn’t trust him to keep a secret, even if it was already fairly obvious - because he didn’t want any misconceptions. For going through similar experiences, there was information to be exchanged and absorbed.

“For you and others similar to you,” Kenma began, looking down at first as he seemed fascinated by his fingernails, “sometimes expressing those feelings through words won’t work. Instead, have you thought about any alternatives? It’s a bit of a cliche to say, but,” he carefully met Shoyou’s eyes again to see the other hadn’t looked away at all, “sometimes actions speak louder than words.”

Shoyou blinked before his shoulders shook and his laughter followed soon after. His laugh was as auroral as the rest of him - teeming with warmth. It wasn’t the response Kenma had expected.

“What’s so funny?”

“You should,” he snickered some more as the laughter started to die off, “take your own advice sometimes, Kenma.”

Kenma just narrowed his eyes in response.

Shoyou quickly threw his hands up and turned to face Kenma on the bed, shaking his head. “No, no, I mean, you’re right. Doing the action-thing makes sense...When like working on something, no matter how many times someone explains it, I just can’t understand it all. It has to be like, um, drilled into me,” he smiled as he mockingly knocked his fist against the side of his head.

Kenma simply stared at him.

“I won’t get it otherwise,” Shoyou shrugged.

That was obvious. From his friendship with Shoyou, Kenma knew he wasn’t the brightest when it came to flat-out intelligence and often worked harder than anyone else to get a better understanding of something. Sure, he had natural athletic talents, but even then, there was some effort required. But when it came to book smarts, that retention usually went out the window. Study sessions with him would result in straining Kenma’s patience and ability to restrain himself from simply walking out.

Kuroo was more book smart than Shoyou - _way_ more book smart. So he should have been more capable when it came to retention and listening.

But no.

Kenma remembered when they were younger and Kuroo first discovered how ticklish he was. He had told him to stop several times, but that hadn’t worked. Kuroo had poked and prodded relentlessly for a whole week before Kenma snapped on him. He went as far as even throwing one of his controllers. Kuroo had gotten a bump on his head and after that never dared to tickle him again - at least not on purpose. 

Accidents happened.

“...Kenma?”

“Hm?”

Shoyou cleared his throat. His nervousness was seeping back into his eyes now. “If I took your advice, I should ask for permission before doing anything, right?”

Kenma cocked an eyebrow at that. “Well, sure...I guess, but I think it also depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, “the person, the mood, the intent...There are a lot of factors involved.”

Shoyou relaxed his shoulders back and let his head rest on the wall behind him. “What if...it was just a kiss?”

Kenma shrugged, “Again, it depends.”

They sat there together with their shoulders barely touching for another long pause of silence. Kenma could tell his roommate was lost in thought from the obvious way he bit his bottom lip and his breathing evened out. It wasn’t uncomfortable sitting in the muted darkness.

But nothing about Shoyou was uncomfortable.

“Kenma…?”

With his name whispered beside him, Kenma just turned his head to look at him. Shoyou was already facing him with that same questionable look in his eye. His hot breath fanned across Kenma’s face, which caused him to instinctively shudder.

“Can I...kiss you?”

A small part of Kenma had been expecting it - that slow building anxiety accumulating in the pit of his stomach since the start of their conversation. He had kissed people before. They were mostly strangers whom he used to rile Kuroo up and see if anything would happen, but his strong feelings for his best friend usually kept him from going any further.

Shoyou wasn’t a stranger.

This would be the point in the game Kenma would have the option of saving his file. This could be another triggered event. What if this changed the ending? There were answers he had yet to achieve and content that was yet unlocked.

However, Kenma was curious to know something beyond all of that.

After all of these years letting his emotions develop, did he love Kuroo for the person he was or was it because he had been the only person to get that close to him? Shoyou had gotten rather close to Kenma since they met back in high school. He felt safe to confide in just like he would do with Kuroo. Maybe this was the triggering event in the plot to alleviate the unsettled tension from the last few months.

Maybe he could move past his unrequited feelings for his childhood best friend.

Kenma watched as Shoyou impatiently licked his lips, catching his bottom lip between his teeth out of nervousness. His hand moved on its own, caressing Shoyou’s cheek before finding its place at the nape of his neck. Kenma’s movements were slow but deliberate as he considered each one, and he appreciated the overwhelming amount of patience Shoyou was displaying right now. It couldn’t have been easy for him. He could feel his pulse jump as Kenma settled himself - positioning his body to face Shoyou better and letting the latter do the same.

His blood pounded in his ears as his eyes never left Shoyou’s face. The tension that built up because of this was starting to become unbearable to Kenma now. He settled his resolve once more before lightly applying pressure to the back of Shoyou’s neck and giving a subtle nod.

Shoyou’s eyes were sharp and intense, picking up on the cues given by Kenma. It was obvious he wanted to give the same careful movements, but nothing about Shoyou was ever _that_ careful - unintentionally rushing to get results. His lips collided with Kenma’s with an audible _smack_.

“Ow,” Kenma pulled back and gently brought his fingers to his own lips, reflexively inspecting for damage.

“I’m sorry!” Shoyou quickly apologized, throwing his hands up in apprehension.

Shaking his head, Kenma dismissed him, “It’s fine...You should be a bit...slower.”

“I can do that,” he agreed before leaning forward again, wanting a second chance to redeem himself.

Though it hadn’t been much of a kiss (if ramming your lips against another person’s was even called that), Kenma gave him that second chance. He remained still again as he let Shoyou move back in place. 

This time was much more careful. Shoyou’s lips were actually very soft and warm, and despite the underlying eagerness, the kisses were rather languid and drawn out. They were simple and catered to Kenma’s own comfort, causing an appreciative fondness to bloom in his chest. In return, Kenma wanted to let Shoyou know it was okay to do more - opening his mouth a bit more and seeking out Shoyou’s tongue with his own.

Shoyou made a surprised noise in the back of his throat, easily following Kenma’s lead and licking into his mouth. His hand found purchase in Kenma’s longer hair - his fingers getting caught in the strands of black and blonde - and accidentally pulled as he tried to free himself. That hurt. Kenma let out a gasp and instinctively pulled his face back, though that only caused Shoyou to pull his hair again.

“Ah,” Kenma panted, his eyes fluttering open and wincing from the third tug.

“Sorry,” Shoyou breathed, using his free hand to try and detangle Kenma’s hair.

Once freed, Kenma sighed and brushed his hair behind his ear. “It’s okay…”

“That...didn’t really go as planned…”

Kenma looked to Shoyou and saw the other had his shoulders slumped and a pout pushed his bottom lip out. He was rather cute

“That wasn’t your first kiss, was it?” Kenma asked, tilting his head slightly.

Shoyou’s eyes went wide as he quickly shook his head. “N-No! I’ve kissed before! This was...just different. Definitely didn’t feel the same as,” his eyes widened as he clapped a hand over his mouth.

“As...?” 

He shook his head, refusing to say more, so Kenma rolled his eyes. There were suspicions, and it was probably safe to say that this little episode confirmed them.

“You’re right,” Kenma agreed, nodding. “It was different...”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, but...it shouldn’t go beyond that.”

“Yeah,” Shoyou nodded and ran a hand through his hair.

Shoyou was cute, sweet, and thoughtful, but he wasn’t what Kenma wanted. That tension between them had definitely burst, and thankfully it didn’t bring any other problems forward. 

Yup, he was doomed on this never ending quest.

A gentle laugh bubbled beside him, causing Kenma to look over at Shoyou again, “Why are you laughing?” 

Shoyou shook his head as his laughter ebbed off and a familiar smile remained in place. When their eyes met again, Kenma saw a new light inside of him. His whole body seemed more relaxed than when he had come in the room, and if he had radiated sunshine before, well, now it was tenfold.

“I don’t know,” Shoyou gave another chuckle, “I guess...I’m happy.”

“Happy?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I’m happy that it wasn’t 'the kiss,' ya know?”

Kenma just blinked slowly at him.

“You know,” Shoyou pressed further, “ _the kiss_! That, um, that moment where everything just clicks? Like everything falls into place or something…”

“So you are happy it was a terrible kiss.”

“Hey! You said it wasn’t that bad!” 

“I said it was different,” Kenma corrected.

Shoyou pouted slightly before continuing, “But I guess so, yeah.”

“Why?”

“Well,” he ran his hand through his hair as he took in a breath, “I guess I was a bit scared of coming between you and Kuroo.”

Kenma slow-blinked again.

“He gets mean when it comes to me being with or around you,” Shoyou made a face, “but I can understand why...I had never really tested any of the feelings I’ve had for friends before, and I’m happy that you let me, Kenma.”

That caused Kenma to blush a bit, “Sure…”

“I really do hope things work out for you soon,” Shoyou added, affectionately touching Kenma’s shoulder.

“Thanks, Shoyou…”

With another squeeze to the shoulder, Shoyou jumped off the bed and stuffed his hands into the hoodie he had on. He turned back to face Kenma and gave him another illuminated smile that just seemed to settle the air in the room. This was Hinata Shoyou’s special ability and was definitely rare to find in a party member. Even as he left, the warmth still lingered behind and a calm fell over Kenma.

He collapsed back onto his bed and closed his eyes, finally feeling that exhaustion hit him full force.

So it was official.

His game wasn’t glitched, and there were no scratches on the disc. All of the preset settings were locked, and he had been stuck on the same level for what felt like a lifetime now. No one made playthroughs or had any cheat sheets - which Kenma never used, but he was desperate. His game was no longer linear and all rational gameplay was thrown out the window.

It didn’t matter how many confidant points Kenma actually had with others because there was really only one person who mattered most. He was in deeper than he thought, and that made this ten - no, a hundred times worse. Maybe he should stop fighting. No matter how much time or distance he put between them, nothing was going to change.

Kenma irrevocably loved Kuroo.

 

* * *

 

**[1:45] Saturday**

 

“Another shot!”

Kuroo slammed down the small glass onto the bar top, calling over to get the bartender’s attention.

The club was packed - as expected for a late Friday night - and people easily crowded from wall to wall. Everyone swayed to the rhythm of the music being blasted by the DJ, creating a second pulse inside the building. The vibrations easily cut through the patrons almost manipulating their senses into either dancing or drinking or both. This late into the night, though, no one gave a shit as to what was going on and simply wanted to make the moments last.

Kuroo, on the other hand, wanted to make the moments go away.

When leaving the park after that fiasco with Tsukki, Kuroo didn’t exactly know where to go. Sure, he could have gone to Yaku’s whose apartment had been close, or he could have just gone home - but he knew he would have been restless for the entirety of the night. With his options splayed out, Kuroo knew what would do the trick.

“How many have you had?” The bartender asked, coming around to take Kuroo’s empty glass.

It wasn’t a surprise to know that the bartender could hear over the loud thumping of the bass and the sporadic pitch of...was that a synthesizer? Those skills came with the job.

Kuroo smirked slyly as he held up three fingers, tucking his hand underneath his chin. “That was my third~”

The bartender casted him a dubious look but otherwise didn’t question the number before pouring another shot.

Kuroo held up the shot and gave him a wink before downing the drink.

“Six.”

The voice was louder than the music, and Kuroo could feel their breath burn the shell of his ear, causing him to shudder reflexively. Their chest was pressed against his back, and Kuroo could blearily see their arm outstretched to lean against the bar.

“Oho? Was someone keeping count?” Kuroo couldn’t help but grin, keeping his attention forward instead of being tempted to look behind him.

There was a chuckle in their voice, vibrating against Kuroo’s spine, “Pushing back that many in a short time will draw attention.”

“Maybe I want attention.”

It had been a while since he was the one that was hunted. Kuroo wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol talking or not, but he was certain of the adrenaline rushing through his body.

“Don’t you already have my attention?”

A cliche line, really, but it worked.

Kuroo finally maneuvered on his stool to face the "charming" stranger. He was more than willing to play this game if it meant erasing everything else from tonight.

And jackpot.

The stranger was fairly tall, though Kuroo knew he, himself, was taller as they came eye-to-eye while he remained seated. The blonde punk hair easily stood out in the crowd like a peacock amongst chickens, but what really drew the eye and made this all the more interesting was the little dart of silver that came after he licked his lips. Tongue piercings were fun.

“I’d be a little more interested after another,” Kuroo purred in time with the low thrumming song change. He held up his empty shot glass and winked.

The man seemed amused as he easily caught the bartender’s attention. Leaning forward and pressing himself closer to Kuroo, he asked for two more shots as he vouched for Kuroo’s tolerance.

Kuroo pressed forward into the man’s chest, nosing around the collar of his shirt. He smelled like everyone else - a mix of alcohol, smoke, and several different colognes fused together. There was nothing distinct to grow attached.

To remember in the morning.

Perfect.

Kuroo flattened his tongue where the man’s neck met the collar of his t-shirt and licked up before sealing with a kiss at the juncture of his jaw. He tasted a bit salty from recently dancing in the crowd, but it mixed well with the tequila still on his tongue. The stranger shivered and pulled back only slightly to pass along one of the shots.

“What should we toast to?” He asked, bringing his lips close to Kuroo’s ear.

Kuroo bit his own lip and smiled. “How about ‘one last hurrah’?”

He laughed against Kuroo’s ear and pulled back to look at him again. One of the lights from the dancefloor finally settled on his face, and a mischievous glint caught in his hazel eyes. “One last hurrah,” he nodded and held up his shot glass.

Kuroo smirked and knocked them together before tossing back yet another shot. 

This was all going to hit him tomorrow - the sobering fight and the drunken pleas. It was going to come crashing down, and there would be nothing he could do to stop it. He was aware, even as he slowly lost all control, that these were choices. And these choices weren’t going to solve anything in the long-run, but the idea of having a temporary “fix-it” was just too tempting. And temptations came in all sorts of vices like punk-rock blondes who’d been staring at him for a good hour before finally making a move.

Yeah, Kuroo knew the weight of these decisions, and yet it was as if someone else was controlling him. He was spiraling out of control, and he didn’t know why. But at the moment he didn’t care. This wasn’t a solution for drunk-Kuroo to figure out.

He was going to save that for tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was turning out a bit longer than planned, so I had to cut it lol Let's just say the next scene is probs one of my favorite moments planned for the fic ;)
> 
> I want to include Kenma's perspective in this fic, but he keeps fighting me whenever it's his turn to take the narrative -_- So I apologize for taking so long in getting this chapter out! And if you felt awkward during the little KenHina moment, then GOOD >.> I love me some KenHina, and I especially love when they're awkward around each other lol Intentionally making something is so much more difficult than when it just happens, but I couldn't pass this up~
> 
> Anyways! Thank you all for the kudos and comments ;w; I'm going to get back to those in a minute, but omg you guys make me cry. I'm glad y'all are enjoying the torture just as much as I'm enjoying it ❤️


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Kuroo,” he blurted his own name out, feeling teeth graze where his throat and shoulder met._
> 
> _“Huh?”_
> 
> _“That’s,” Kuroo panted, eyes fluttering as he felt the man lift his head, “my name.”_
> 
> _Smooth._ Real _smooth._
> 
> _The man didn’t seem too bothered by it, though, as he gave a breathy laugh in response. “Call me whatever you want.”_

He couldn’t feel his legs.

If he hadn’t been leaning against his new “friend,” Kuroo would have immediately collapsed upon standing. His legs felt nonexistent and heavy at the same time, causing a laugh to bubble in his chest. Thankfully, he was taller than the stranger holding him, which meant he could drape his arm around his neck - playfully throwing concern away as he nuzzled into his undercut.

“Easy on your feet,” the man’s voice was tinged with amusement as his hold around Kuroo’s waist tightened. Closer now than when hovering by the bar, Kuroo could easily make out the warm baritone over the music.

Standing had triggered not only the numbness in his legs but also all six of those tequila shots, and Kuroo couldn’t help his oncoming fit of giggles. No matter the size or weight of someone, six shots in an hour were still six shots.

“You okay?”

Kuroo smirked as he met the man’s eyes. They were...hazel? Gold? Brown? Something...but they were bright and clearly eager. “Never better~”

The man laughed, “Try saying that for when you aren’t clinging on for dear life.”

“Mm, so you’re saying this is a problem?” Kuroo purred into his ear, pressing his body closer.

He cleared his throat, “Not at all.”

“Good.”

Kuroo tapped his fingers along the man’s jaw, considering this all for half a second, but his desires won out in the end - they usually did. His impulses tended to override any sensical decision. He nosed his way along the man’s jawline, which was all hard lines and a bit rough with a light stubble, and planted a kiss right below his earlobe.

The man shuddered.

Kuroo often had out-of-body experiences whenever alcohol was involved, which meant he was aware of what kind of drunk he could be depending on the drink. For light fun and a good time, usually beer was a safe choice and was the hardest to get drunk on. Rums and vodkas made him the life of the party. Tequila, however, was dependent on how horny he was.

Right time, right place, right moment - Kuroo was entirely submissive with barely any standards to say no.

Although, not having functional legs did make things a bit trickier. Luckily in his current state of mind, Kuroo thought very highly of his acting skills. He was just going to fake it until he made it.

Easy, right?

Kuroo teased the man’s ear, nipping and sucking at his lobe. He liked how the arm around his waist would tighten just a bit while he played with the piercings. And there were a lot of piercings. His fingers combed through the longer tuft of hair, feeling the contrast between the top and the undercut - it wasn’t much to latch onto though. Kuroo’s goal was to rile him up just enough to get him feeling rushed and desperate. He wasn’t really looking for anything long and drawn out.

Thankfully, it seemed that his new friend had the same intentions. Kuroo hummed as he felt the man’s hand move up under his shirt - pushing up Kuroo’s jacket and t-shirt to trace the defined muscles of his lower back. The unsteady breath that followed was Kuroo’s favorite reaction because he liked to surprise people from time to time. He was proud of his athletic body and often showed it off, but when he dressed just right, the surprise was a very welcomed payout.

“D-Do you wanna -”

“Move?” Kuroo purred in his ear, pressing their hips together. 

The man hissed at the contact but didn’t pull away. Instead, he ground back against Kuroo and licked his lips - the little dart of silver making another more prominent appearance. Oh god, he wanted to know what that felt like.

“Let’s go somewhere a little more private,” Kuroo blew into his ear, musing in the reactions he was already getting.

Their eyes met again, but this time the man’s was more determined and set. He gave a slight nod before leading the way towards the dancefloor, half pulling Kuroo along. 

It was a lot more crowded than Kuroo had noticed before - so much so that no one was actually dancing but simply swaying not-quite on beat. The strobe lights coming from the DJ’s booth made it disorienting to maneuver amongst the bodies, causing people to knock into each other. Kuroo was elbowed a few times just trying to keep up. Luckily, the man’s grip hadn’t let up and Kuroo could rely on that strength to keep him from collapsing.

As they immersed deeper into the pulsating pack of people, everything seemed to slow down and blur together. There were various lights, blinding eyes and shielding faces, and the hypnotic pull of the music wanted Kuroo to just melt into the crowd. The dance floor was its own world, and it beckoned victims to lose themselves.

Either that or the tequila had been laced with something.

But there was another way to get lost.

The bewitching neon lights quickly burst into blinding fluorescents, causing Kuroo to quickly close his eyes and readjust. The room spun just a bit and the heavy smell of disinfectant only blended in with the other underlying scent that could only be described as a public restroom - damp and reeked of all sorts of combing smells. It was a bit more disorienting than being out in the mass of bodies and electrifying strobe lights, but it was far less crowded.

Kuroo opened his eyes again as he felt himself being shuffled towards one of the stalls - the latch locking in place behind them. There was a bit of relief from the stall since it actually managed to dim the overbearing light, allowing Kuroo to ground himself back to the moment. It was bad enough fighting through the effects of tequila let alone poorly managed bathroom set ups.

He was quickly pressed up against the door, his chest hitting the stall, and the man was quick to help Kuroo shrug out of his jacket - letting it fall to the floor, which he knew he would regret tomorrow. Kuroo grunted from the pressure on his back but relished in the feeling of the man’s lips against the nape of his neck and shivered once he felt something both warm and cool touch the more sensitive parts of Kuroo’s throat. Feeling the piercing trail its way across his skin sent small convulsions down to the base of Kuroo’s spine, settling low in his gut and pulling a sigh from his lips at the contact.

This guy was something else now that he had Kuroo pinned against the stall door. His hands were more venturous, pulling Kuroo’s shirt up so his fingers could massage into his back muscles, dancing along the vertebrae. The feather-light touches kept spurring on the warmth pooling in his stomach. Kuroo wanted to be touched more, and he tried to make it known as he pressed his ass back against the man’s hips.

He pulled off of Kuroo’s neck to groan into his shoulder - the heated sound echoing in Kuroo’s muscles as he bit his lip. Kuroo flattened his back against the man’s chest and reached around to run his fingers through the guy’s hair. The dual textures were interesting, but he was reminded about the lack of length he could hold onto.

With a little bit of space now between Kuroo and the door, the man was able to snake an arm around Kuroo’s waist and unbuttoned Kuroo’s jeans with his other hand. Kuroo pleasantly sighed as he felt the restriction loosen at his hips and hummed when the pressure from the guy’s hand found his dick.

_Finally_.

Kuroo’s hips reacted instinctively, pushing into the guy’s palm as his dick twitched in delight at the light friction. He leaned forward against the stall once more, reaching up and grabbing the top of the door, which was an easy feat thanks to his height. He still managed to retain strength in his arms and was able to latch onto the stall to keep himself upright - if it wasn’t for the guy holding him up, Kuroo would’ve been down for the count already.

The man proceeded to attack Kuroo’s neck again - this time biting and sucking - as his hand kept a typical steady rhythm. Kuroo could feel the fabric of his boxers getting damp from his own pre-cum and was reminded about the further restrictions around his legs.

The man - er, he had a name. Everyone had a name, which would definitely come in handy right about now.

“Kuroo,” he blurted his own name out, feeling teeth graze where his throat and shoulder met.

“Huh?”

“That’s,” Kuroo panted, eyes fluttering as he felt the man lift his head, “my name.”

Smooth. _Real_ smooth.

The man didn’t seem too bothered by it, though, as he gave a breathy laugh in response. “Call me whatever you want.”

Introductions were a bit backwards, but it was whatever. Kuroo leaned his head back against the stall and smirked at him. At least now he could call him _something_.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Kuroo groaned as he felt the man squeeze the base of his cock, feeling dribbles of pre-cum bead further against the fabric of his underwear. “Could you, ha, give me a little help, Kitten?”

“Aren’t I doing enough?” He purred back, pumping his hand up before teasing the tip of Kuroo’s cock with his thumb. 

Kuroo gave a little whine, dropping his head to his outstretched arm. He could feel his bangs sticking to his forehead from stifling heat that was being crammed into the meant-for-one-person space. Carefully, he peered an eye over his shoulder and was met with the man’s own hazy gaze.

Maybe being bossed around a bit was what Kuroo needed right now.

“Kitten” gave another squeeze, and Kuroo felt like he was going to fall over - quickly losing strength in his arms now. He must have felt Kuroo’s knees buckle because in one fluid motion, Kuroo was flipped around with his back now pressed into the stall door and his arms naturally finding their place around the man’s neck.

Kitten looked at him for just a moment before crushing their lips together. Kuroo was pliant as he easily opened up to the sudden aggression. He was able to feel the cooler silver ball against his own tongue as they pushed against one another. It was an intriguing contrast between flesh and metal and certainly made for wandering thoughts. Kuroo’s cock twitched against his thigh from the thought of feeling the piercing along the more sensitive parts of his body.

Not wanting to be completely overtaken, Kuroo managed to drag a hand down the front of Kitten’s chest and felt the button to his pants. With practiced ease, he managed to push the man’s jeans and boxers halfway down his thighs - which he just noticed how sturdy they were (no wonder he could hold most of Kuroo’s weight up).

Kuroo licked the inside of Kitten’s mouth before pulling back, running his tongue over his bottom lip and smirking. There was nothing left in Kuroo’s legs, so he slid down the stall door and landed on the floor with an ungraceful _thump_ \- laughing slightly at himself for yet another elegant display of dignity.

“You okay?” Kitten panted, bracing himself against the door and looking down at Kuroo through half-lidded eyes.

“Perfect~”

Kuroo’s legs were sprawled out in front of him with a foot touching the base of the toilet and the other spilling underneath to the other stall. Good thing it was just them.

He fixed himself to sit a bit more upright before reaching to Kitten’s hips and guiding him forward. The man cocked a quizzitive eyebrow in response but made no comment.

Licking his lips, Kuroo took the man’s cock in his hand and curiously held him, feeling his weight for a moment. To his amusement, Kuroo noticed that the piercings didn’t just stop at his tongue and ears. Curious now, he let his tongue stroke the underside of his cock - one lethargic stripe from base to tip and felt the three unnatural ridges press heavier along his tongue.

Talk about extreme body mods.

Kitten let out a gasp as Kuroo paid extra attention to the piercings, experimenting just how sensitive he really was. Power rushed over him as Kuroo decided to play a bit more, wanting to make him squirm a bit longer. Using his deadliest trick, Kuroo looked up at Kitten and caught his eyes once more. He gave a teasing lick to the top piercing and heard the reactive groan he expected before deviously grinning.

There was no time to prepare.

Kuroo wrapped his lips around the head of Kitten’s cock and slowly worked his way down the shaft. As he hit each piercing, the man trembled above him and let out breathless moans, even squishing his face against the door to stifle the sounds. Kitten’s hips bucked once Kuroo made it over the last piercing towards the base of his dick, and he dropped his hand into the mess of Kuroo’s hair, digging his nails into his scalp. But Kuroo didn’t flinch, instead expecting that reaction, and continued further - aiming to take the entire length in one fell swoop.

This was Kuroo’s best kept surprise.

Kuroo gripped Kitten’s hips in place as he pressed his nose right below his navel and felt the head of his cock hit the back of his throat, humming around the full weight of him in his mouth.

“ _Sh-Shit_ ,” Kitten hissed and clenched the fistful of hair even tighter.

Kuroo had learned long ago that he had no gag reflex. It was a neat party trick, and he never got tired of the utter disbelief that came over a partner’s face when he first used it. As the nails dug into his scalp, Kuroo moaned around his cock, ensuring to harass the susceptible jewelry with the flat of his tongue. 

“KUROO TETSUROU!”

Reeling his head back so fast, Kuroo banged against the bathroom stall door, coughing and sputtering from nearly choking on the guy’s cock - a first for him.

Looking up, Kuroo could see Kitten flushed with panic as they both were just frozen in place. Unfortunately for him, Kuroo knew that voice - it was too unmistakable. 

What the fuck was _he_ doing here?

“Tooru, you don’t have to shout.”

Shit, he wasn’t alone.

“Tetsu,” seemed Oikawa was ignoring Suga’s scolding, “get your head out of the guy’s ass and get the fuck out here.”

Kitten cleared his throat as he finally managed to find the will to move again. He carefully stuffed himself back into his pants, and with full force embarrassment, opened the stall to quickly make a run for the exit.

Kuroo, on the other hand, had been leaning against the door with his full weight, so when Kitten decided to dash out, Kuroo collapsed backwards onto the tile flooring with an audible _oof_. He squeezed his eyes shut - once again a victim to the blinding fluorescent lighting - and groaned. 

“Well, well, well,” Oikawa tutted as he walked over and crouched down next to Kuroo’s head, “if it isn’t our little Cinderella.”

“Fuck you,” Kuroo huffed, peeking an eye open and thanking God for the grace of Oikawa’s big head shielding him from the light. 

He glanced over and was vaguely aware of Suga hovering close by, but the third body threw him off, even though he should have expected him. Daichi stood by the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, blocking entry for anyone else to come by. It was a bit hard to make out distinct facial expressions, but judging from their overall spokesperson Oikawa Tooru, no one seemed too thrilled to be there.

“Do you know how dirty the floor is?” Oikawa didn’t even attempt to hide the disgust in his voice as he looked at Kuroo sprawled on his back.

Kuroo dug the palm of his hand into his eyes and groaned some more. “Go...away.”

“What? So you can get off in a filthy club bathroom?”

“Yup.”

“Whelp, sucks to be you.” Oikawa toed his shoulder, placing his hands on his hips. “Looks like you forgot how the stroke of midnight works. Time to go home, princess~”

“Ugh,” Kuroo huffed, “just fuck off Tooru.”

“Kuroo,” Suga’s softer voice chimed in as he knelt down beside the other side of Kuroo’s head, “no one is mad at you.”

“No? I could name a few people…”

Suga shook his head, and with the blinding lights behind him, he’d never appeared more angelic. Was this his punishment? Suga could be ruthless - Kuroo was well aware from firsthand accounts - but it was his kindness that was the worst. “Please, let us take you home.”

Kuroo didn’t say anything. There was a dizziness that was crashing over him now, feeling the second wave of those tequila shots now. It took everything he had not to roll over and vomit on Oikawa’s shoes - though Kuroo wouldn’t mind if it meant getting rid of his roommate.

“Kuroo?” Suga gently called to him, running his fingers through Kuroo’s hair now. He gave shallow strokes that would easily put anyone to sleep, but the soothing gesture was very welcomed at the moment. It gave Kuroo something to concentrate on.

“Mm…”

“We need to talk about what happened, but let’s put tonight to bed and get you home,” Suga kept his voice low. Between that and the lulling strokes, how could Kuroo not succumb to his demands?

Kuroo sighed pleasantly and nodded against Suga’s palm, giving in not only to his friends but the dizziness and exhaustion that had started to really take seat in his body.

“Koushi just has a way with words,” Oikawa cooed before lightly toeing Kuroo’s shoulder again - the tip of his boot digging in.

“Stop,” Kuroo whined and managed to blink up at Oikawa now before narrowing his eyes, “I can’t get up…”

Huffing, Oikawa rolled his eyes at him. “Had a feeling something like this would happen.”

As if on cue, Daichi pushed away from the entryway and came over to Kuroo. He cocked a judgmental eyebrow, but Kuroo simply grinned back at him. It had been a while since he’d seen Daichi - that internship of his really isolating him from everyone - but it was only fitting he would witness Kuroo at a low point.

Kuroo held his arms up, making grabbing motions with his fingers, as he waited to be picked up.

Suga cleared his throat and Oikawa tutted again.

“Put yourself away first, _princess_ ,” Oikawa chastised, nudging Kuroo’s hip and reminding him that he was nearly on display still.

“Oh, right,” Kuroo laughed at himself before fixing his jeans and resuming his previous actions.

Daichi sighed gently and bent down to hoist Kuroo back onto his feet. Kuroo managed to latch his arms around Daichi’s neck and happily hummed when he felt Daichi’s arm secure around his waist. He may have stopped playing, but clearly that didn’t mean he gave his time up at the gym. No one had arms quite like Daichi’s.

Well, maybe Bo or Iwa...Wow, Kuroo could really go for a good Bo hug right about now…

“You have him?” Suga asked beside the pair, clearly directing his question to Daichi.

Kuroo was the tallest one amongst them, standing a good couple centimeters more than Daichi, so it made this a bit more difficult to distribute weight evenly. It would have been more sensical for Oikawa to carry Kuroo, but after seeing him sprawled out on the public bathroom floor, obviously he wasn’t going to touch him.

“Everything’s fine,” Daichi assured Suga with that soft smile of his.

Kuroo hugged a bit tighter around Daichi’s neck as he squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to groan at seeing them make goo-goo eyes at each other, but he managed to contain it. Honestly, it was all annoying with how...perfect they were together - definitely didn’t miss being between that.

“Mm...jacket,” Kuroo groaned, pressing his face into Daichi’s shoulder.

Oikawa made another noise of disgust as he said, “I got it. Now let’s just get out of here. Honestly, Tetsu, you pick the wildest places to spiral out of control.”

“Shut it, Tooru…” Kuroo bit back, but his voice was too mild to sound anything but tired.

There was a sound of keys jingling before Suga spoke again, “I’m going to bring the car around. Tooru, please stay with Daichi and help him with Kuroo.” 

And with that, the sound of his footsteps followed by the click of the bathroom door was all that was left.

Kuroo could feel the dizziness intensify, making him keep his eyes closed and cling solidly onto Daichi. He was beginning to shut out anything that didn’t have to do with his will to not pass out or vomit on spot - causing the lights to spot against the back of his eyelids and voices dip in and out without much focus.

"...texted Iwa-chan...would help when we get…"

"Do you know why…"

A sigh. "I have...don't think he even knows...acting this way."

"...be obvious."

Kuroo groaned into Daichi's shoulder. Their voices sounded distant now, but he wanted to hold on. What were they saying? Were they talking about him while he was right there? 

Rude. But...what did he not know?

"Let's go before he completely becomes dead weight."

"Easy for you to say," Daichi grunted and jolted Kuroo to get him to start moving with them. 

His feet didn't feel like they were being dragged which probably meant he was walking with Daichi's guidance. When they exited the bathroom, Kuroo was immediately hit with the impact of heat and body odor - a much stronger sense now that he was incredibly sensitive down to his stomach. He wasn’t sure which room had been worse.

"Hey, keep it together," Daichi nudged him. "Don't lose it now."

Kuroo groaned again, feeling his stomach push against his diaphragm.

"I swear if you throw up, we're leaving your ass here," Oikawa threatened, jabbing a finger into Kuroo's arm.

It was an empty threat - even on the brink of passing out Kuroo knew his friends wouldn't do that. 

Probably.

He was vaguely aware of them making their way out of the club. There were a few people who bumped into him and Daichi, but surprisingly not as constant as one would have expected - or at least as Kuroo registered. The music continued to pulsate, and instead of the hypnotic lull from earlier, it only curated the contents in his stomach and increased his nausea. 

The break-out into the cool late October night hit them with a _whoosh_ , but it was entirely welcomed by Kuroo. He hadn't noticed how deep his flush went until a bead of sweat rolled down from his brow, leaving a cold chill in its wake. Kuroo was practically burning up.

There were a few more indistinct words that passed between Oikawa and Daichi before Kuroo felt himself being shuffled forward again. Kuroo didn't bother to help - more like he couldn't as he was slipping further towards passing out. He was barely holding on any longer and felt as if his feet floated on their own.

There was a click and a slam, and then everything started moving. Daichi was the only one they knew with a car as everyone else used public transportation. Owning a car was more hassle than it was worth, but right now, it was almost like a godsend. 

Kuroo leaned over and pressed his face onto the glass, feeling the smooth, cold surface soothe the intense internal inflammation. The alcohol was making him want to strip, but without much control of his limbs, he was reduced to slumping over. This was the best he was going to get.

The last of his awareness was starting to go. The voices blended together, but some part of him knew they were talking about him.

Whatever.

The fact that they found him in the first place was annoying. Kuroo knew what hole he was digging himself and had all intentions of following through. They didn’t need to scoop him out and whisk him away.

They didn’t need to feel responsible for him.

But all of this was too much right now.

Kuroo just wanted to sleep.

And forget.

Everything.

 

* * *

 

Oikawa was a good friend. He was probably the _best_ friend anyone could have asked for - definitely the best roommate to have been given freshman year and then stayed with until now. He didn’t ask many questions when it came to some rather interesting choices, kept up-to-date on social schedules, and even took the trash out once in a while. He was a great friend and roommate who always looked out for those he cared about. Anyone would be lucky to have him in their lives.

Especially Kuroo Tetsurou.

In Kuroo's time of oblivious crisis, Oikawa managed to swoop in with the knowledge of having “share location” on his phone and finding his poor, unfortunate roommate. He couldn’t stand seeing Kuroo drown his emotions in alcohol any longer, and so he took it upon himself to make that rescue.

It had been about time too. There was no way he was going to just sit back and let Kuroo make another choice decision about a questionable one-night-stand. He was tired of watching this game play out.

_Whrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr_.

Oikawa huffed as he turned on their blender. It was an old model and took a lot of patience to use sometimes, but it was great if anyone wanted to grind out any anger.

And there was definitely anger.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto announced himself as he came home from spending the night over at Akaashi’s. He kicked his shoes off and popped his head into the kitchen, “What’cha making?”

“Protein shake,” Oikawa answered kind of dryly. It wasn’t anything against Bokuto, but he just wasn’t in the mood. There was a terrible knot in his stomach, and he needed to diminish it before practice - which was in about an hour.

Bokuto tilted his head as he leaned against the entryway. “You don’t normally make those before practice.”

“I need the energy,” Oikawa sighed, turning off the blender to inspect the contents.

“Oho ho?” Bokuto cooed, teasing him with his wiggling eyebrows.

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “Don’t get excited because nothing like _that_ happened last night. Iwa-chan and I were interrupted.”

Bokuto gave a sympathetic wince. “Ouch, that’s rough. What happened?”

Opening his mouth to spill every little detail - a habit of his really - Oikawa decided against it. He looked to the clock on the stove and then turned back to his roommate with a mischievous smirk.

“Hey, Kou-chan? Would you mind waking our middle blocker for me~? I don’t want him to be late for practice~”

Bokuto simply blinked at the sudden change of tone - knowing full well that Oikawa was scheming something - but he nodded in the end. Whatever it was, he knew not to get involved.

Oikawa leaned against the counter as he put his protein shake into one of his favorite travel mugs - all black with gold trim and the words “Queen Bitch” printed in gold script on either side. He took the first sip and heard the door to Kuroo’s bedroom get kicked down.

“KUROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The followed up _thump_ and surprised yell put a smile on Oikawa’s face. That was only the beginning.

“Bo, what the fuck?!”

Ah, that was music to his ears~

Oikawa put his shake into the fridge before making his way over to Kuroo’s room and inspect the damage he had unleashed. 

Poking his head past the threshold, he had to hold himself back from laughing. Bokuto had wormed his bulky body into the small twin sized bed and snuggled up close to his best bro. Kuroo, on the other hand, had his head under his black comforter and was pressed facing his wall with his feet peeking out from under the blanket. Bokuto was no stranger to finding his way into Kuroo’s bed, but this was a rare time where he looked rather out of place and unwanted.

“Aw, c’mon Kuroo! We have practice in an hour and we gotta start heading out,” Bo was leaning his chin on what appeared to be Kuroo’s shoulder.

“‘M not going,” Kuroo mumbled through his blanket, “Say I’m sick or something…”

“What? No way!” Bo immediately sat up and shook his head. “We have prelims next week! If you miss out today, Coach might bench you!”

Kuroo groaned and shifted under the covers. “Stop yelling...I don’t care…”

“But...it’s _prelims_! What about the game? The recruiters? Don’t you wanna go pro?”

Silence.

Oikawa frowned as he watched them. Bokuto was also a good friend and clearly was trying his best to wrestle Kuroo out of whatever funk he was in. Despite being their actual Captain, it didn’t seem his powers were going to sway him.

“You’re going to practice.”

Bokuto looked over at Oikawa and nodded, smiling now. “Yeah, you’re not skipping out now, buddy. Come on, I’ll carry your bag.”

With a light slap to his shoulder, Bokuto took that moment to get up and look for Kuroo’s gym bag. There wasn’t much he needed to add, so once he had that in hand, he made his way out of Kuroo’s bedroom - leaving Oikawa and Kuroo alone.

“Go away, Tooru,” Kuroo mumbled once Bokuto was gone.

Oikawa simply rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. This wasn’t the first time Kuroo had had a rough night. He wasn’t quite sure what happened, but this definitely wasn’t the worst. It wasn’t like that one time sophomore year - er, focus. Walking over to Kuroo’s bed, Oikawa took a seat on the edge and glared directly at where Kuroo’s head would be.

As if sensing the hostility, Kuroo slowly pulled the blanket from his face and blinked at him. He looked rough. His hair was in more disarray than usual and his eyes still looked a little glossed over - though that could have been from the lack of sleep he’d gotten. It hadn’t been easy bringing a passed out Kuroo up to the apartment, even with Daichi’s help. Thankfully, they were able to get him out of his clothes and tossed him into bed.

Once he had his eyes, Oikawa let a slow smile spread across his face, but it wasn’t meant to soothe whatever was going on in the dumb cat’s mind. Instead, he twisted it just so - in that way that would make even Mattsun and Makki back down from their defiance - and tilted his head for an additional incentive.

“You’re coming to practice, Tetsu-chan.”

Kuroo visibly swallowed.

_Good_. He should be _terrified_. It was a good thing Iwa-chan had already left for his own game already because it had taken a lot of convincing to keep him out of Kuroo’s bedroom this morning.

Honestly, Oikawa was an _amazing_ friend.

“Fine,” Kuroo looked away first - admittance of defeat - and ran a hand through his hair, “but if Coach sends me home after getting sick, don’t stop me…”

Oikawa shook his head. “Oh, Coach isn’t going to send you home sick.” Reaching over, Oikawa patted Kuroo on the cheek and stood from the bed. “Now, get up and get dressed. You’re not making Kou-chan and me late for practice.”

Kuroo groaned - this time out of reluctance - but kicked off his blanket. He sat up and blinked, looking down at himself in just his boxers. “Did you…?”

“Suga-chan,” Oikawa knew what he was referring to. If it had been his decision, he would have left Kuroo in his dirty clothes as punishment. “Honestly, you make so much trouble for him.”

Kuroo dragged his hand across his face, shaking his head. Was he remembering what he did last night? He deserved all the guilt he was feeling right now.

“And Tetsu-chan?”

“Hm…?”

“After practice, we need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else feeling a bit tense?
> 
> Not much rambling in these notes this time! I didn't get to read through this too thoroughly this time, so if there are errors, I apologize >.> I wanted to get this out as fast as possible~ This chapter was def inspired by Bebe Rexha's "Last Hurrah" and highly recommend listening ;)
> 
> I have a whole playlist for this fic that keeps me powering through XD And thank you again for all the comments and kudos! Y'all are the real mvps with humoring my pacing >.>


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He and Iwaizumi were by far not the closest in the apartment. Friendly - yes - but they never went around gossiping or sharing secrets with one another. There wasn’t really much of a need. Any awkwardness from the past had already disappeared but not much improvement had been made since then. They plateaued and kept a healthy distance from invading too much into each other’s lives, and it was a mutual cooperation. Go teamwork._
> 
>  
> 
> _But looking up into Iwa’s eyes now, there was genuine concern._

Practice had been brutal.

Nausea was the least of his problems now, though his stomach liked to remind him of his actions with a few flips every so often. He hadn’t been able to eat anything beforehand and even water was upsetting his internal tract, but he at least managed to force hydration in an attempt to flush everything from his system. That had been a _great_ idea - water sloshing around as he ran the track and courts, trying his best to put in effort towards practice.

And his _head_. Damn, everyone had been so loud and unforgiving as they actually communicated during the three on three scrimmages. The entire gym had been echoing with calls asking for tosses or timing blocks as well as the usual encouragements between players. Why did everyone have to be so supportive and cooperative?

It was a miracle he survived.

And with no help from Oikawa or Yaku. They had been merciless, forcing him to block and receive and using him for demonstrations. As soon as a court was free, he was being pulled along as their third. Bokuto was also no help. He was as energetic as ever and even teased Kuroo from across the court - hooting and hollering despite pleas asking for a break.

Several times Kuroo found himself rushing off towards the bathroom or a trashcan - only to expel water or dry heave for a few minutes since there was practically nothing in his stomach. He hadn’t had a practice this terrible since freshman year. It had been the first house party he’d ever gone to, and it was a real rager. However, he had neglected the reminder about practice the next day. Ever since then, Kuroo had refrained from alcohol before all-day practices.

Well, until last night.

By the time practice was over, Kuroo was positive he had died. His soul had left his body and all that was left was simply a husk.

Back at the apartment, the first thing Kuroo did was collapse on their couch - not having the strength to even make it to his own bedroom. His gym bag had been dropped at the door with his shoes, and he found himself face first in the worn-out cushions. This was where he belonged and nothing was going to make him budge.

“Ahem,” Oikawa cleared his throat.

Moving his head slightly, Kuroo made the slightest bit of effort to look up at the devil himself. He still hadn’t forgiven him for unleashing Bo before practice. That was sneaky and underhanded and - well, Kuroo would have done the same thing if it had been Oikawa but _still_. And then he had pushed him to the point of nearly breaking.

“What?” Kuroo scowl, though half of his face was hidden in the cushions.

Oikawa made a swiping motion with his hands, indicating for Kuroo to scooch over.

“I’m not moving. I’m dead,” he muttered, burying his face again.

“Fine. I can always just sit on top of you.”

Groaning, Kuroo managed to summon up what little strength he had left and fixed himself into a sitting position. His head was plastered back with his eyes glued shut to block out what little light they already had on. Oikawa took his opportunity with stride, grinning triumphantly as he took his newly opened space on the couch.

Bo made his return from his room - having dropped his stuff off properly in his own space - and easily took his place in the open armchair closest to the television. He never sat normally and was draped across each arm with the remote magically in hand.

“You both look destroyed,” Bo commented on his other two roommates, tossing his head back to look at them.

Kuroo glanced over at Oikawa - er, more like glared actually, but he did notice his roommate’s fatigue. Pushing Kuroo as hard as he did probably also ended up pushing himself the same way. Served him right though...

But Oikawa had looked tired even before their practice today.

“That’s what you get,” Kuroo mumbled, looking back at the tv. Bo had flipped on a random channel, but the mind-numbing background noise helped to just space out.

“ _Me_?” Oikawa scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Says the guy who had been sprawled out on a public bathroom floor.”

Kuroo opened his mouth to counter, but he quickly shut it. So he was angry about the late night. Kuroo had suspected it, but this was enough to confirm it.

“Bro,” Bokuto shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Going out the night before a big practice? Don’t you remember -”

“Yes, Bo, I remember,” Kuroo cut him off. He didn’t need another reminder about his poor decisions from freshman year.

But Bokuto wasn’t offended by the quick snap. Instead, he grinned a bit further and knowingly wiggled his eyebrows.

Kuroo rolled his eyes before quirking up a brow, “Are you gonna keep making goo-goo eyes at me, or are you finally gonna settle on a good show?”

Bo playfully gasped, clutching a hand to his chest, “Of course I want to keep eyeing you,” he clicked the next channel up, “but you’re right. Nothing good’s on.”

“Isn’t there a movie on somewhere? There’s always a movie playing on some channel.”

“I’m looking, I’m looking, but,” Bo shook his head as he continued to scroll, “I’m not seeing anything, dude.”

“We could always just pop in a DVD.”

“And are _you_ going to get up to do that?”

Once again, Kuroo went to retort but backed down. Nope. There was no way he was getting off the couch, and it sounded like Bo was in a similar mindset, which meant no DVD options.

“That’s what I thought,” Bo sneered victoriously, clicking away on the remote.

Kuroo sighed and leaned his head back again. He didn’t have enough fight left in him to continue, so he simply let Bo go. Looking over at Oikawa next to him, Kuroo could see how still the man was with his one knee pressed up to his chest. His eyes also looked unfocused and distant, clearly lost in thought knowing Tooru.

_“We need to talk.”_

He frowned, remembering what Oikawa had told him before leaving for practice. Kuroo’s memories from last night were a bit blurry after a certain point, but there was a distinct imprint in his mind of being “rescued” by Tooru, Suga, and Daichi. He wasn’t sure how aware Oikawa was of what Kuroo had done, but judging by the gravity in his voice earlier, he knew he wasn’t going to be let off the hook.

So when were they going to talk?

Practice was finished, and neither Kuroo nor him had any definitive plans, judging from the ratty old pullover Oikawa was sporting - which most likely belonged to Iwaizumi at one point - and bright alien covered pajama pants. If that outfit didn’t scream I’m-not-going-anywhere-tonight-even-if-you-force-me, Kuroo wasn’t sure what would. It was quite easy to judge Oikawa’s moods based on his clothes.

Kuroo had faced grueling punishment after grueling punishment today, and yet, he knew that none of that would compare to whatever talk Oikawa wanted to have. He might as well get it over with.

“Hey, To -”

He was cut off by the front door.

Iwaizumi slipped out of his shoes like everyone else and stomped his way into the living room. He looked a bit worn out too - having had a match scheduled with his team today. Stopping by the couch, he looked to Bo and Oikawa before narrowing his eyes directly at Kuroo. That expression wasn’t unfamiliar, but it was rare that Kuroo was the one on the receiving end of it.

Kuroo simply blinked back at him, taken by surprise.

“Have you told him?” Despite keeping eye contact with the wing spiker, Kuroo knew the question wasn’t directed at him.

Oikawa sighed beside him and shook his head.

“Told me...what?”

“We’re mad at you,” Oikawa hummed thoughtfully, having relaxed a bit now that Iwa had returned home.

Iwaizumi still didn’t break eye contact as he huffed in agreement.

“Wait, why?” Kuroo was definitely confused. Oikawa being mad made sense, but Iwa too? Were they really that co-dependent?

Iwa narrowed his eyes until they were slits, “You know why.” He growled low in his chest before stomping off towards his shared bedroom - the door crashing behind him with a hard thwack.

Silence immediately followed. 

The only thing that could be heard was the low mumbling from the tv - their last channel now playing background to whatever was going on. In an instant, the air in the living room had changed. An underlying panic wanted to crawl its way under Kuroo’s skin.

Bokuto immediately swirled around in the armchair to sit up straight, scrambling to look over at Kuroo, “What did you _do_?”

“I…”

Finally tuning back into reality, Oikawa shifted on the couch and repositioned himself to face Kuroo as well. He still kept his one knee hugged against his chest, but the life had returned to his eyes - thoughts now focused on what was at hand.

Kuroo knew the Tooru who liked to talk big and inflate his own ego. He knew the Tooru who was obsessed with Sci-Fi movies and wanted to visit Rosewell, New Mexico one day. He also knew the Tooru who would rather be caught dead than seen first thing in the morning. _This_ Tooru was familiar as well, but he was utterly terrifying when he wanted to be. This version was usually reserved for the courts to destroy their opponents, but a few times, Kuroo had seen him come out to dominate whatever else was needed instead.

The sickening feeling returned to his stomach as he swallowed hard around the forming lump in his throat.

“Iwa-chan and I had the apartment all to ourselves last night.”

Strike one.

Kuroo heard Bo take in a quick breath.

“We were all _alone_ , and Iwa-chan was finished with all his reports too.”

Strike two.

“Tooru, I -”

“But did we get even a measly five minutes together? _No_ ,” Oikawa gritted his teeth, scowling at Kuroo from across the couch, “instead, I get an urgent phone call from Suga-chan.”

Kuroo blinked, “Suga…?”

Fuck.

“Yes, _Suga-chan_ ,” Oikawa continued. “Turns out calling your ex in the middle of the night warrants for Mama Bird’s spidey senses to go off, thus needing to hold a meeting to discuss the whole cause of all this.”

“You guys had a meeting…?”

“And then!” He threw his hands up in exasperation, talking right over Kuroo, “What happens next? A fucking bounty goes up for your head because _apparently_ your selfish needs took over before any logic could be squeezed out of your fucking brain!”

Kuroo winced at that.

“What the hell would possess you to call _Tsukki_ , Tetsu?” Oikawa huffed, having gone slightly red in the face from all his ranting. “Because of that whole whatever-the-fuck that was, I spent a good portion of the night keeping Koushi from killing you.”

Bo whistled, breaking up Oikawa’s pace, “Really, bro? Tsukki?”

“I…” Kuroo bit his lip. Nothing he could say would be apology enough right now. His own personal drama was bleeding into the lives of everyone around him apparently.

“What were you thinking?” Oikawa shook his head, exasperated.

“I wasn’t.”

Bokuto reached over and touched the arm of the couch where Kuroo was sitting - he couldn’t reach Kuroo himself, so this would have to do. He pulled on a concerned expression with his mouth turned downward and his eyes soft. It was a face best known for extracting the best well-hidden secrets.

Kuroo groaned and pressed the heel of his palm into his closed eyes.

“What happened?” Bokuto asked calmly, keeping his voice low as if talking to a frightened animal.

Sighing, Kuroo knew he was giving in, but he had wanted someone to talk about all of this for the longest time. Maybe now that he had an audience, something would come out of it.

“I wanted to know why Tsukki broke it off with me.”

“Really?” Oikawa asked flatly, indignantly.

“Yeah,” Kuroo nodded, looking between his roommates, “I mean, people breaking it off with me was nothing new, I know. Usually I could tell why or I was ready for it from the beginning, but being with Tsukki was different. So when he broke it off, I was...affected.”

“You got that right,” Bo easily agreed, nodding. “It was like you were dumped.”

Kuroo made a face at that comment. Getting “dumped” implied that he had been in a legitimate relationship to begin with. What he and Tsukishima had was an _arrangement_ \- that was completely different. They had established rules and boundaries and never overstepped what was agreed upon.

“Go on,” Oikawa waved his hand along.

“Right, well, I just wanted to know why...If I pushed him away, I needed to know the cause, you know? If I could get that answer, then I could prevent it from happening with anyone else.” 

“Anyone else, huh?” Bo cocked an eyebrow, glancing over at Oikawa.

Oikawa rolled his eyes, “What did Tsukishima tell you exactly?”

His stomach did another flip, and Kuroo was positive it wasn’t from his residual hangover. He felt a nervousness spread throughout his body as his leg began to shake and he chewed on the inside of his cheek. For some reason, it felt as if Kuroo was about to expose some sort of secret - something that wasn’t his to tell - but he’d come this far. Why hide anything else, right?

“He...was falling in love with me?”

It came out as a question, despite remembering exactly what transpired between him and Tsukki. He was still unsure about the legitimacy of Tsukki’s statement only because he hadn’t seen the signs himself. But how could he question the way someone else felt? 

“Well, _duh_ ,” Oikawa scoffed at him before laughing dryly. “You’re the only one who didn’t see it, stupid Tetsu.”

Kuroo blinked, “Huh?”

“He called you his boyfriend, dude,” Bokuto chimed in.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, like several times, but you always just like,” Bo shrugged, “dismissed it.”

“That’s because Tetsu-chan is stuuuuuupid,” Oikawa stuck his tongue out at him.

Kuroo narrowed his eyes at the both of them. “Oi, if you knew about all of this, why didn’t you say anything?”

Sighing, Oikawa simply shook his head and dug his cheek into his knee. “Because it’s not our place to tell you how to feel, Tetsurou.”

“Yeah!” Bo nodded vigorously, pounding his fist into his open palm, “I mean, if you can’t tell that your best friend is in love with you, how would you notice Tsukki was doing the same?”

Very funny.

It wasn’t the first time Bo or Oikawa teased him about his closeness with Kenma. But this was horrible timing.

Still...Kuroo’s mouth felt dry, and it was hard to swallow. A slow pounding returned to his ears, but this wasn’t like before - no overexertion from activities could reason this away. Whenever they brought this up, Kuroo always broke out into a cold sweat. Was his suffering not over yet? He really did have such cruel friends. 

“You’re...joking, right? This again?” He tried to brush Bokuto’s teasing away.

“Don’t know why you don’t believe us. Honestly, you’re the most dense person on the planet. Are you really that much in denial?” Oikawa glared at him.

“I’m not in denial,” Kuroo pushed back. “You guys just don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Do you picture him when you jerk off?”

Bo whistled.

“What the fuck, Shittykawa?” Kuroo spluttered and backed up on the couch, containing himself to his one corner. “Why do you always take it that far?”

“Why do you never answer the question?” Oikawa cocked an eyebrow.

“I…” Kuroo felt his face heat up as usual. He knew Tooru did this to get him to react, and he always played right into his hands. “W-Well, the brain can only conjure up so many faces…”

“Oh my god,” Bo laughed beside him, “you _do_!”

“Shut up!”

“Do you picture me? Kou-chan? Iwa-chan?” Oikawa pressed further. “What about when you were with Tsukishima? Have you pictured other people before or has it only ever been Kenma?”

“I’m not...answering that.”

The sound of the bedroom door opening up caused the laughter to die off in a hush as Iwaizumi reappeared in the living room. He was changed into his favorite sweatpants - the same worn-out teal ones with “Aoba Johsai” lined on the side - and a mis-matched sweatshirt, but the same scowl was locked in place. Once again, he made sure to direct his attention to Kuroo as the cause of this entire snowball effect.

Despite the intimidating expression, Iwaizumi’s eyes were a bit softer than when he first came home. He was sure to have heard the entire conversation from the bedroom - these walls were too thin not to - and so Kuroo was waiting to hear his teasing or backlash or whatever was going to come next.

He and Iwaizumi were by far not the closest in the apartment. Friendly - yes - but they never went around gossiping or sharing secrets with one another. There wasn’t really much of a need. Any awkwardness from the past had already disappeared but not much improvement had been made since then. They plateaued and kept a healthy distance from invading too much into each other’s lives, and it was a mutual cooperation. Go teamwork.

But looking up into Iwa’s eyes now, there was genuine concern.

“You need to snap out of this and grow up, Kuroo,” Iwaizumi told him sternly. No anger. No yelling. But his voice was firm and commanding, and it almost felt like Kuroo was being scolded by his father. “You’re used to having an objective lense when looking at evidence, right?”

“Well...yeah, I guess so,” Kuroo agreed mildly.

Iwa nodded, “Then use it. Look at everything from a scientific viewpoint.”

Kuroo pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed, “For fuck’s sake...fine! Where do I start?”

“From the beginning?” Bokuto blinked.

“No, that’ll take too long,” Oikawa shooed the idea away. “Just think about how they normally act around each other.”

“Like the way they’re always together?” 

“Kind of,” Oikawa sighed, “but further than that.”

“Oh! What about their joint account?”

Iwaizumi blinked and looked at Kuroo, “You guys have a joint account?”

“Well, yeah,” Kuroo nodded, unphased by the incredulous tone in Iwa’s voice. “How else was I going to get Kenma to eat? He wasn’t going to spend his own money,” he rolled his eyes as if that had been the most logical decision he’d ever made.

“That’s one,” Oikawa smirked.

“Kuroo will also drop everything and anything for Kenma.” Bokuto grinned, adding another point to his own list.

Kuroo scoffed at that statement, “I won’t drop _everything_ , Bo.”

“You’ve stopped in the middle of sex before because Kenma was bored and wanted you to go over and play video games.” Oikawa reminded him - and it didn’t happen only once.

“Dude,” Bo shook his head, trying not to laugh.

“Well, that was...because...um,” Kuroo scratched the back of his head and furrowed his brows together.

“You two have no boundaries,” Iwaizumi added further. “I’ve seen you both curled up on the couch, on the floor, in your bed...You also share food, clothes, passwords -”

“Maybe this should be an intervention for Kuroo being a sugar daddy,” Bokuto chided, poking at Kuroo’s ribs which earned him a smack on the hand.

“Oi.”

“Is he lying~?” Oikawa hummed.

“Friends share...those things,” Kuroo could feel his face heating up. “Besides, I don’t have boundaries with _a lot_ of people.”

“Yeah, but Kenma does,” Oikawa shook his head, exasperation returning. “I can count the number of people he’ll let touch him on less than one hand.”

Kuroo huffed through his nose as he crossed his arms over his chest. The heat in his cheeks wasn’t letting up in the least, and that queasy feeling sloshed around unsteadily in his stomach. God, what he wouldn’t give to just blame this all on his lingering hangover and spend the rest of the day in the bathroom…

“You have him as ‘Kitten’ in your phone.”

“Yeah, so?” 

“Who else do you use pet names for?”

“I…”

“Who makes you feel the happiest?” Bokuto cocked his head to the side.

“Kenma.”

“Who can’t you stop thinking about?” Iwa folded his arms over his chest.

“Kenma.”

“Who do you jerk off to?”

“Kenma - oi!” Kuroo glared over at Oikawa before blinking slowly.

Bokuto snorted at that while Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and dug his knuckles into his temple. Oikawa simply sneered at Kuroo, watching the gears click into place.

When the revelation hit, it was nothing like it was in the movies. There were no fireworks. Lightning didn’t suddenly come crashing through the roof. Colors weren’t suddenly vibrantly in focus. If anything, it felt more like he was going to be sick all over again - though there was still nothing in his stomach. The blood pounded in his ears, and his entire body just froze where he sat, looking at a stain in their carpet.

Kuroo could barely remember a time when he wasn’t with Kenma. They had grown up as neighbors since he was eight and Kenma was seven. _Inseparable_ was the right word for sure, but they had their own comforts - Kuroo loved volleyball and science more than anything and Kenma always had video games (and volleyball but only ever admitted once). They could still independently function for the most part, but yet, no matter what they were involved in, they always came back together in the end.

He had experienced dating accusations about him and Kenma before - Oikawa constantly threw it at him, especially if he was pissy about something Kenma said or did - but he had always brushed them away. Best friends to lovers? That was such a cheesy rom-com plot and wasn’t always true.

Then again…

None of his other relationships could ever amount to what he had with Kenma. It was that idea which held him back and was his subconscious reasoning for never committing to anyone else.

“I’m...in love with Kenma.”

“ _Ding, ding, ding_ ,” Oikawa sang, grinning smugly.

Kuroo’s eyes widened and his fingers clenched and unclenched as his breathing came quick and shallow. Without much thinking on his part, he stood up suddenly - wanting nothing more than to just bolt out the door and go...somewhere, anywhere than here - but almost immediately the room started spinning. But a hand caught his shoulder before his feet could get the better of him - Bokuto always had his back when he needed it.

“Kuroo,” Iwaizumi’s voice managed to cut through his drubbing eardrums, “sit down and take a breath.” 

With Bokuto’s help, they both guided Kuroo back down onto the couch. He was drained of all color in his face and could feel a small rivulet slowly trace down his spine.

“Hey, look at me,” Iwa’s reposing voice cut through the momentary distraction. “Kuroo, you need to listen to me, okay? Take in a deep breath.”

In.

“Good. Now let it out slowly.”

Out.

“Everything is going to be alright,” Iwa reassured him. “Just focus on breathing, okay? It’s a lot to come to terms with...I know, but it’ll be okay.”

In.

“Wow, Iwa-chan, was this how you reacted too?”

Out.

“I swear to God, Tooru, I will hit you.”

That’s right. 

Iwaizumi and Oikawa also were childhood friends, best friends, and when they got together, well, _that_ had been an event itself. If anyone could relate to this state of sheer panic - perhaps Kuroo did have more in common with Iwaizumi than he thought.

In.

“Oh, how I wish I had been there for your gay panic~”

 _Smack_.

Out.

“Ow! Iwa-chan!”

The breathing was beginning to help. Iwaizumi came back into focus, though he looked a bit more pissed off than Kuroo last remembered - probably in retaliation to Oikawa’s teasing. He was knelt down in front of him with a protective hand on Kuroo’s knee. After a light squeeze, Kuroo blinked in response and felt a bit more at ease now.

Iwaizumi was really good at this.

The click from one of the bedroom doors caught Kuroo’s attention and caused him to look around the living room. Bokuto must have stepped out. The only thing that could have possibly called him away from such a disrupting moment had to have been Akaashi.

“Tetsu…?”

Kuroo turned his head to see Oikawa had closed the distance between them on the couch. Shoulder to shoulder, Oikawa hovered and watched him observantly. The littlest flinch would either make him back off or cling closer, and Kuroo wasn’t sure which he wanted in this moment.

Actually, he knew exactly what he wanted.

“I...don’t know what to say to him,” Kuroo listened to his own voice come out in a whisper. He had never felt so terrified in his entire life.

“How about,” Oikawa cleared his throat, “ _Kenma, I am sorry for being incredibly stupid, but I, too, love you. Marry me~_ ”

Iwaizumi gave another light smack to Oikawa, earning a well deserved yelp in return, and rolled his eyes, “Don’t listen to that last part...but you do need to talk with him.”

Kuroo just barely moved his head to nod a reply.

His brain couldn’t stop buzzing with all of these thoughts. Images immediately came forward of times spent as just the two of them - lazy days just watching movies, active days of going downtown, alternating days of family dinners, and constant days of just being around each other. Something warm simmered in his gut at those memories, and that same feeling of wanting to run nearly overtook him again. Kuroo wanted to bust down every door until he could reach Kenma and -

And what?

What would he say after all of this?

I just realized my feelings for you. 

No one else can have you. 

Date me.

No...none of that seemed right. Or fair. And what if Kenma had moved on? Just because he realized his own pathetic self didn’t mean that Kenma was there waiting for him. What if -

“Stop that.”

“Ow,” Kuroo winced, feeling the pinch in his bicep.

“I know what you’re thinking, Tetsu,” Oikawa sighed, “and it’s not true.”

“But what if -”

“Talk. To. Him.”

“I...I can’t…” Kuroo grimaced at himself. He was being such a coward. “Not yet…”

“Goddammit, Tetsu, this is ridiculous.”

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi cut back in and moved his hand from Kuroo’s knee to Oikawa’s, “you can’t force these things, remember? If Kuroo needs a few days to process this, then that’s fine.”

“But Iwa-chan! Kenma -”

“Tooru, enough.”

Oikawa puffed his cheeks out and heaved a weighted sigh before leaning back against the cushions. He looked entirely childish, but that was how he gave in.

“So, you’ve never really thought about all of this before?” Iwaizumi directed back to Kuroo.

“I…” Kuroo furrowed his brows together. He could feel another headache begin to form right above his eyes. “Not...entirely. I guess I didn’t want to think about it too much because...because emotions are...See, sex is easy, but everything else is - is fucking complicated.”

“Only when you’re already emotionally dating someone else,” Oikawa mumbled from his little corner, earning a glare from both Iwa and Kuroo.

“It _is_ fucking complicated,” Iwa agreed with Kuroo’s statement, nodding, “but you’re not alone. Trust me, if you, uh, ever need to talk about it…”

Iwa didn’t need to finish that offer because Kuroo knew exactly what he was saying. It actually meant a lot for him to reach out like this. Maybe they would get just a bit closer now - finally making progress on the whole roommate friendship thing.

Clapping a hand to Iwaizumi’s shoulder, Kuroo felt the familiar tug of a smile at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks, Iwaizumi.”

“Yeah, well, just remember that facing your own emotions is much more difficult than figuring out someone else’s.”

“Aw, Iwa-chan is such a sap~”

“Fuck off, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi’s entire face grew red, even to the tips of his ears and down his neck. It was nice to get a glimpse of this soft side of Iwaizumi.

"Hey, hey, hey!"

At Bokuto's re-entrance, all three roommates looked over at him. And just like that, there was a settled ease in Kuroo's shoulders like a weight had been lifted. Bokuto came over to the couch and squeezed all his density between Kuroo and Oikawa, latching his arms around both of their necks.

"What did Akaashi want?" Kuroo questioned as he tried to readjust himself in Bo's grasp. This couch was definitely not made for three almost-professional volleyball players.

Bo blinked, though he shouldn't have been surprised by Kuroo's deduction skills. They'd known each other long enough now that it was beyond predictable. "Oh, nothing really, just rescheduling plans."

"Everything alright?" 

A spontaneous cancellation wasn't usually a good thing.

"Y-Yeah! 'Kaashi needed to, um, take care of something, but," Bo changed subjects too easily, "you know what this means?"

"Kei-chan is enforcing boundaries?" Oikawa quipped.

Kuroo laughed. If anyone needed to enforce the boundaries it was Bokuto.

"No!" Bo shook his head. "It means, we can all go out for dinner tonight! When was the last time all four of us actually went out together?"

Iwa blinked, "I think...two semesters ago?"

Gasping, Oikawa leapt from the couch and clapped his hands together. "Yes! Oh that's a wonderful idea, Kou-chan!"

"Kuroo?" Bo looked to his best bro with such a convincing expression it should have been illegal. 

The corners of his mouth twitched before a full-blown smile overtook him. Kuroo caved in and nodded, despite the ache still in his joints and the whirlwind of emotions in his heart. But it wasn't such a bad idea. “Yeah, I’m down.”

“Wahoo!” Bokuto jumped from the couch now, pumping his fist in the air. “Gonna cheer up my bro, my dude, my main man, my -”

And Kuroo just laughed again. It hurt deep in his gut, but he laughed anyways - even as tears came to his eyes and blurred his vision over. Everything was just too much right now, but they did say laughing was the best medicine. No, it couldn’t cure physical health crises, but this was what it was for.

All of the emotional panic and exhaustion rolled off his shoulders momentarily. Kuroo knew he needed to talk to Kenma. What he was going to say or do still was beyond his reach, but one thing he was sure of was that he needed to apologize. He wasn’t sure how long Kenma’s feelings had been there or even if they were still there.

But this was what he had promised him.

Kuroo was going to make it up to him one way or another and the first step was the most important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize, but I have not read this chapter nearly as much as I should have >.> I wanted to get this out for all of y'all this week! I will re-read this sometime this weekend and possibly make a few edits, but for the most part this is how it went down~ This is def more dialogue heavy than other chapters, and I hope all the interactions came out...clear? Readable? So many people were talking XD
> 
> Next chapter will feature a bit more Kenma ;)
> 
> Thanks again for all the love and support y'all~! <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“What if it wasn’t with Yaku-san?”_
> 
> _Kenma shrugged, “Doesn’t matter who...I would still support Kuroo with his decision.”_
> 
> _“Even if it was Tsukishima?”_
> 
> _That made Kenma’s blood run cold._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In an attempt to win y'all back over after my long silence, I made this chapter extra long and threw in some goodies for ya ;)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's read this far! I honestly can't believe we've made it to Chapter 15 and we still have plenty more to go >.>

It would have been a lie to say he had slept well if at all last night. It wasn’t until the sun came up that his body finally gave in and simply passed out. The first time Kenma woke up he checked his phone for any new messages - a normal procedure - and when he saw nothing, he rolled back over to fall asleep again. 

That had been at nine.

Just before noon, he woke up for the second time. Again, there were no new messages - not even from Kuroo whom he knew should have been up by now to get ready for his Saturday practice - just game notifications and a few updates from social media, but for once, he wasn’t interested in his daily collections. Kenma stretched out on his back, looking up at the ceiling, and listened to the few voices coming from the living room. 

They sounded like they belonged to Koutarou and Keiji, and though Keiji managed to keep his tone hushed which muddled his words, Koutarou chattered away at his normal volume. It sounded like they were discussing something for later tonight. Their domesticity was disgusting at times, so Kenma tended to skip through their cut scenes when he wasn’t in the mood to pay attention to them.

Like now.

When he woke up for a third time, Kenma hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep again, which was a bit odd. He didn’t pass his time sleeping his day away - playing video games, sure, but he wasn’t the type of person to just be unproductive. Not everyday could be dedicated to the main quest, but those were the times where grinding was necessary.

Sleeping on and off was not grinding.

Kenma heaved a long sigh, yawning just at the curtails, before sitting up in bed. He could feel the gravitational pull of his pillow but resisted the urge of falling back into a coma. If he fell asleep one more time, there would be no redemption today. So instead, he forced his body to move and push his comforter away.

The edges of his brain still felt a bit fuzzy from sleep and kept tugging at him. Getting up, Kenma silently went through his I-just-got-out-of-bed routine and didn’t see any of his roommates in the apartment - Shoyou and Lev had a match today and Keiji’s door was closed, and so he was probably studying - but he didn’t mind that.

Once he was safely back inside his room, Kenma sat down at his desk and brought his knees up to his chest, curling in on himself as his computer booted up. There were a few projects coming due, though that internal panic of motivation hadn’t kicked in yet. He wasn’t too good at completing assignments too far in advance, and besides, Kenma knew he wasn’t nearly in the right headspace to be thinking about school work.

With his computer on and ready, Kenma decided to at least attempt some assignments - floating through them with little interest. He hovered over a few potential games too, but he never started any of them.

Kenma just felt...off.

And for once, he hated the silence.

So when there was a sudden explosion of sound barreling through the living room sometime later (time was an illusion today), Kenma never felt so grateful for having boisterous roommates. He rolled off his bed, having been back and forth between that and his desktop, and lightly padded his way across his room to investigate.

Having Lev and Shoyou as roommates made things...interesting. As predictable as they could be, there was still an element that was left unaccounted for, which often left Kenma and Keiji exhausted in trying to keep up.

Opening his door, Kenma watched as a silver blur of long limbs ran past him and came to a stop in the living room. Lev seemed to be in a hurry more than usual, having barely changed out of his university’s navy blue uniform and throwing his track suit on top. It was always going to be jarring seeing him in anything but red and black. He was bent over, gathering a couple of textbooks off the coffee table, and was entirely engrossed in whatever rush he seemed to be in.

Kenma didn’t want to come across as obviously bored, but he was...obviously bored. Venturing out to the living room, he watched as Lev crammed things into his backpack - taking notice that it already had a clean change of clothes at the bottom. All of these signs pointed to suspicious activity, and somehow Kenma’s instincts knew exactly the reason behind all of this:

Short, blonde, and demanding.

Standing there observing his oblivious roommate, Kenma wanted to see how long it would take him to snap out of his spell. Lev was clearly bewitched. Never had Kenma seen such a ridiculous expression on the giant’s face. His eyes were wild, hyper-fixated on something only he could see, which contrasted the gentleness that smoothed over every plane of his face. Lev was a natural happy-go-lucky kind of guy, but this was clearly a different kind of happiness.

“Whoa! K-Kenma,” Lev had whipped around and nearly collided with the smaller man, having not paid attention to whoever was in his way, “I didn’t, um...How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” Kenma gave a slow blink back at him. He noticed Lev hike his backpack up higher more so out of nerves than weight. Because of that, he felt obligated to ask, “Where are you going?”

“Oh? Me? I…”

“Didn’t you have a practice game today? You normally walk back with Shoyou and Tobio.”

“Yeah, well, they...um…”

Kenma simply cocked an eyebrow.

“Well, would you look at the time! I have to get to the library!” Lev’s words came out in a rush as his face grew a few shades of pink.

And before Kenma had the opportunity to question the blatant lie in that statement, Lev was practically bounding over the couch and slamming the door behind him. Those long limbs came in handy when making an escape.

At the sound of the front door, Keiji’s own bedroom door slowly opened and a head of tousled, raven hair poked out to investigate the ruckus. He gave a slow blink in Kenma’s direction before coming out of his room altogether, wearing an oversized sweater (probably belonging to Koutarou) and his boxers. It seemed like Kenma wasn’t the only one having a lazy Saturday.

“Lev will be out of the apartment.”

Keiji furrowed his brows together in an unspoken question.

“He’s going to the library,” Kenma replied quickly, catching the realization in Keiji’s eyes: Lev never went to the library.

“Ah,” Keiji’s voice cracked slightly, still thick from sleep, “I see...So he’ll be back?”

“Tomorrow,” Kenma finished with a barely-there smirk touching his face, “probably.”

Keiji made a thoughtful noise in reply before he gestured towards the kitchen, “Would you like some tea?”

Nodding, Kenma slowly followed behind Keiji to their tight-fitting kitchen. Though they were all lucky enough to each have their own bedrooms, other cuts were clearly made to the space to accommodate them. Their kitchen was sacrificed and really only had room for one person to be in it at a time - when the fridge was open, no one could enter or leave those confines. It at least functioned well enough, and honestly, the only person who actively cooked was Keiji. Lev and Shoyou were not allowed near a stove, and Kenma only ever touched the stove in rare moments.

Because of the size of the kitchen, their table was tucked in the corner of their living room. It didn’t receive much use outside of one-on-one chats as half of their table was pressed against the wall usually cluttered with mail, random junk, and occasionally volleyball gear. Only two seats were ever accessible at a time, but honestly, only Kenma and Keiji ever used the space for what it was intended.

Kenma took a seat at the head of the table and peered through the galley window into the kitchen. He comfortably brought a knee to his chest, resting his chin on top, as he watched his roommate prepare the kettle and place it on the stovetop.

It then occurred to him that the last time he saw Keiji was just before going over to Morisuke’s apartment. He had been nervous yet eager to head over and listen to what the libero had to tell him, remembering the careful heed in Keiji’s eyes as he left. This was certainly going to lead into a discussion about that.

Or was it?

Kenma had known Keiji for years now, and in all that time, he knew for certain that if there was something Keiji wanted to know he would find a way with or without the help of the other party involved. He had a sixth sense of knowing the ins and outs of everyone without even actively prying - unlike Tooru who made it clear he wanted to know your business. Keiji just _knew_.

Thinking about it made Kenma’s fingers itch, so he took out his phone and opened to a random game involving color matching icons. It was a mind numbing distraction to help calm this prickling anxiety.

He heard the soft _clunk_ of a mug set in front of him but made no move yet to take it. The other usable chair at the table pulled out, and Kenma knew Keiji had taken his place opposite him with his back to the kitchen. Without looking up, he also knew that his roommate was staring right at him, causing his instincts to ignite in a fight or flight response.

“I went to Morisuke’s apartment last night.”

Kenma glanced up to observe Keiji’s reaction. He had given into the silent persuasion - better to get it off his chest now - but Keiji remained quiet, simply taking a sip of his tea in response. He did, however, speak with his eyes, pressing Kenma to continue and knowing that that wasn’t the entire story.

There genuinely was no pressure to continue. Kenma did not have an obligation to let Keiji into his business whatsoever, and again, something about the latter compelled Kenma to speak. The only other people that held that power were his mother and Kuroo.

“Morisuke wanted to confess about being with Kuroo again,” Kenma shrugged. It had been a pattern with his ex-teammate as if guilt ate at him, but Kenma wasn’t bothered by that.

Keiji gave a slow blink, raised an eyebrow, and took a long sip of his tea in reply. That was code for wanting to know how Kenma felt about that.

Simple.

“Nothing,” he sighed, placing his phone down on the table to blow across his own tea. “Morisuke and Kuroo hook up once in a while, but it’s never serious.”

“You would know them best,” Keiji voiced before clearing his throat.

Kenma nodded, “I do.”

There was a long, drawn out pause. Their eyes locked and something cold frosted over Keiji’s gaze, making Kenma shiver in his seat.

“And if they had been serious?”

“Not possible,” Kenma’s answer was immediate. “Morisuke has no such intentions when he has his own idiot to fumble with. But,” he took a deep breath and humored the question, “I wouldn’t stop them.”

Keiji raised a skeptical eyebrow at the last remark, cupping his tea firmly in both hands. “Are you sure about that?”

Kenma narrowed his eyes. Just how Keiji could read him the same could be said in reverse, and right now, everything about his roommate’s body language suspected some sort of falsehood in Kenma’s words. But Keiji had been right.

To some degree.

It wasn’t a secret that he had meddled in some of Kuroo’s past “relationships” before. He made sure to assert his dominance, proving that no matter what outside forces came into Kuroo’s life that Kenma would always be there. It was his right as a best friend to make that point entirely clear - though Kenma clearly took advantage of their platonic relationship by being overly needy or affectionate.

“Yes,” Kenma answered in a deadpan.

Keiji stared at him as if he was detecting the lie in that statement before he pursed his lips together, slowly bringing his mug up to his face again. “What if it wasn’t with Yaku-san?”

Kenma shrugged, “Doesn’t matter who...I would still support Kuroo with his decision.”

“Even if it was Tsukishima?”

That made Kenma’s blood run cold.

Since high school, Kenma never gave Tsukishima much consideration. The year after Kuroo graduated, Nekoma and Karasuno held practice matches and even faced off again at Nationals. Tsukishima had been a capable player - taking Kuroo’s tips and mentoring to heart and honing his own skills - but that was it. Nothing else stood out to him as someone to watch out for. That was, at least, until last year.

When Kuroo got bored, one of two things would happen: 1) he would be overly clingy and needy with his friends to the point of annoyance or 2) he would find someone new to play with. His new playmate had just so happened to be Tsukishima Kei who was attending another university in the area. Kenma hadn’t thought much of it as it was routine for Kuroo, but after six months of him _exclusively_ seeing Tsukishima…

That was when he started to worry.

No one had ever lasted past six months let alone the _ten_ months of their entire relationship. Had they gone a whole year - well, Kenma was willing to commit several crimes with willing accomplices already on speed dial - but he didn’t have to wait for that.

Tsukishima had ended it.

 

* * *

 

The breaks in the summer were longer for university students than they were for high school students, and unlike high school, he didn’t have volleyball to keep himself preoccupied of how slow time moved. And with classes not having started yet, there wasn’t even homework to work on. He probably could play a game, but he had already beaten his new releases at least twice by now. He was going to have to wait a couple of days before restarting those storylines, though maybe he could pull out a classic and just mindlessly fiddle with that - though Mario Kart was only entertaining when he had Shoyou or Kuroo to make fools of themselves.

Being at home during breaks was definitely the most boring.

Maybe he should have gone to the store with his mother like she offered. But no, Kenma decided being holed up in his bedroom laying flat on his back while going through the motions of playing Pokemon on his DS was better.

And he still had three more weeks of this.

Kenma audibly sighed and put his DS down on his chest, closing his eyes and running a hand over his face.

This had to be the longest break he had ever experienced. It was also the first break in which he felt completely and utterly alone. His best friend who was usually his constant motivator for passing time was too distracted with his “boyfriend” - originally a teasing remark now turned absolute betrayal in truth even if Kuroo denied it - and barely came over. Even Kenma’s mother noted a lack in Kuroo’s presence and asked if they were having a fight.

He wished.

At least then Kenma would know what to do with his time instead of just stare emptily at the ceiling. He didn’t like this one bit and didn’t know what to do about any of it. 

Everyone else that had taken hold of Kuroo’s attention never lasted long. Kenma made sure of it. But Tsukishima seemed to be the exception and usual tactics weren’t working as easily as they did others. At this rate, Kenma was going to suffer through another semester of...them. Thinking about it made him huff out a frustrated sigh.

A loud clap of thunder startled him slightly, causing Kenma to peek an eye open and glare at his window. It had quickly grown pitch black almost tricking him into thinking more time had passed than initially thought. So there went any plans of leaving the house - though the truth was that Kenma had no intentions of leaving until he had to go back to school.

He sat up slowly in bed and let his fingers fall through the strands in his hair. The blonde was fading again, and he knew he was due for another touch up...but Kuroo was the one who usually did that for him. Maybe that was a good enough excuse to call him - as if now he needed excuses in the first place to get Kuroo to come over.

Another roll of thunder resounded outside and brought Kenma’s attention back to his window. The winds were picking up now.

Before Kenma could further feign disappointment for a perfectly “ruined” day, his phone started to ring on his end table, which was strange. Everybody who was important knew that Kenma didn’t answer phone calls. Ever. But that didn’t mean Kenma wasn’t curious to see who attempted the task, and to his surprise, the one calling him knew this rule the best.

It was a split second debate, but if he was calling him that meant something _bad_ happened. So Kenma answered the call, and his voice came out quieter than he expected, “Kuroo…?”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, but no one spoke. Instead, all Kenma could really hear was muddled garbage over an intercom, voices uttering nonsense, and the heavy current of torrential rain that mirrored outside his own window right now.

His phone anxiety churned in his gut, but now he had to stay on the line until he heard a response. Anything. 

“Kur -”

“I need you.”

Kenma swallowed in response, listening in closer to how Kuroo’s voice shook low and raw. It sent a shudder down his back for more than one reason - having avoided phone calls for so long, he had almost forgotten what it was like to hear Kuroo’s voice right in his ear. Answering now didn’t seem as bad.

He had to remind himself to take a deep breath before replying, clearing any thoughts from his mind, “I’m at home.”

“Alone?”

All of Kuroo’s responses seemed to rush out as soon as Kenma finished. 

“Yes.”

“I’m coming over.”

And before he could respond or ask a question himself, Kuroo was already gone.

Kenma blinked and stared at his phone for a solid minute, replaying the “conversation” in his mind once more. Something deeply ingrained into his soul told him this was bad, _real_ bad. There was no context or even a hint as to what it could possibly be, but that was what his instincts told him. There was no other explanation.

At least, not a logically sound explanation.

There was a small, fantastical part of Kenma’s brain that did want to believe it was something good - something he’d been dreaming about for so long. There had been a dream or two that definitely started out very similarly with Kuroo reaching out frantically as if waking from a stupor he’d been in since they were kids. A very small and desperate part of him waited for that day of realization to come.

Maybe Kuroo broke up with Tsukishima.

Kenma’s heart puttered at that thought, a little too hopeful with the idea, and he needed to calm down. He needed to return to rational thinking, having given in for just a moment, and deduce what prompted Kuroo to _call_ of all things. If he wanted to come over, Kuroo would have simply texted saying he was on his way and then proceed to let himself into Kenma’s house as if he already lived there.

And the way he sounded….

Shaking his head, Kenma threw his legs over the side of his bed and gripped the edge, digging his fingers into his mattress.

No, this was not a fantasy coming true - he was positive of that and pushed that insignificant voice down. Something was wrong, and Kuroo was coming over to see his best friend. Kenma had a part to play. Nothing changed and nothing was going to -

The front door opened up downstairs.

Kenma’s breath hitched in his chest as he froze in place on his bed, staring down at his floor. His mother had gone shopping earlier, so that had to be her, right? 

The light thudding of feet up the stairs told him otherwise.

When his bedroom door was slowly pushed open, Kenma looked up from the floor to stare at his best friend. Kuroo’s hair that usually defied the laws of physics was flat and stuck to parts of his face. He looked uncomfortably saturated as his jeans were five shades darker than they were supposed to and his t-shirt heavily clung to his lean frame. Kuroo had discarded his shoes downstairs by the door, but the socks he wore left wet footprints along the wooden floor while he made his way over to Kenma’s bed.

Kenma blinked up as Kuroo now hovered above him. The droplets from Kuroo’s hair smoothed down the planes of his face before dripping off his nose and chin, landing on Kenma’s own cheek. Looking at him up close, Kenma’s heart sunk in his chest. Kuroo’s hazel eyes which were always laughing and challenging were now empty, distant, and...something else Kenma was sure he hadn’t seen in a very, _very_ long time.

As he went to open his mouth and break this depressing staring contest, Kuroo leaned forward and collapsed onto Kenma’s bed. He curled up beside him and easily wrapped an arm around Kenma’s waist. Kuroo, who looked like a drowned cat, was now causing Kenma’s bed to take the brunt of his outdoor-shower-state. Kenma could already feel his sheets absorb the excess water.

“Kuroo,” again, Kenma’s voice came out in a whisper - the rain pounding against his window roaring above whatever noise he made.

But Kuroo heard him and reflexively held him tighter, pressing his face into the small of his back now.

Kenma swallowed the lump in his throat and steeled himself as he placed his hand over Kuroo’s, “You’re soaking the bed.”

He mumbled something of an apology.

Sighing, Kenma simply shook his head and said, “Go take a shower...or you’re going to get sick.”

He didn’t move right away and the room settled between the rain outside and Kuroo’s audible breathing. Kenma could have sworn his own pounding heart was also heard, but that couldn’t possibly have been the case.

Finally, after what could have been an eternity for all Kenma cared, Kuroo unraveled around Kenma’s waist and slowly sat up beside him. He rubbed at his face but nodded at the earlier suggestion, willing himself onto his feet. Shuffling out of the bedroom, Kenma watched as Kuroo left fresh footprints along the wooden floor.

Once the door was closed again, Kenma gasped into nothingness. What was that all about? Was Kuroo’s character glitched? He had to have been running a virus or something because that was...that...that wasn’t like him at all. Everyone had their own depressive episodes, but that…

Kuroo looked broken.

The sound of the shower starting up down the hall knocked some air into Kenma’s lungs, allowing him to reel back into reality. He went over to the bottom drawer of his dresser where Kuroo’s spare clothes were kept - having had a drawer to himself in Kenma’s room since he was ten - and picked out the first things on top. Kenma quietly deposited them into the bathroom as Kuroo showered before heading back to his room.

Staring at his bed, he could easily make out the Kuroo-sized puddle that seeped through his sheets, so Kenma stripped the bed to replace everything.

His mind immediately conjured the blank expression that had been on Kuroo’s face when he walked into the bedroom. There had been genuine consternation glossed over his eyes, making it a wonder how he managed to navigate his way over - though he knew Kuroo must have gone on autopilot to get himself here. Where else would he go in that state?

Kenma felt pride blossom in his chest, just thinking about how much Kuroo trusted him to take care of him, but it was easily washed away knowing that it was only because they were just _best friends_. It was an unsaid obligation that one would be there for the other no matter what - a magical summoning contract that might as well have been signed in blood at this point.

Like he needed another reminder.

While Kuroo finished up with his shower, Kenma decided to also change into a different pair of sweats, especially since he’d been a casualty and soaked through - all thanks to Kuroo. Once done, he went to sit back on his bed and picked up his phone to calm his nerves, opening up to the first mindless game he came across.

Thankfully that seemed to have worked because Kenma barely noticed Kuroo’s return until there was a dip in the twin sized mattress and he was placing his head on Kenma’s chest and returning his arms around his waist. Naturally, Kenma carded his fingers through Kuroo’s damp hair - nothing like the sopping mess he had arrived with - and moved his phone slightly out of the way to look down at him. That was a mistake. Without having realized what clothes he had dropped off in the bathroom, Kenma now saw the familiar fitted black t-shirt and worn, red Nekoma Volleyball Club track pants.

It felt as if he had been transported back in time. 

A simpler time.

Kenma’s heart tugged at the memories, but he pushed those away to concentrate on the present. He wasn’t the best at consoling people; however, he knew he had to try to do or say something for Kuroo’s sake. That’s why he was here after all, right? Kuroo needed him.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Kenma assured him, keeping a smooth rhythm with his fingers as he felt Kuroo’s hair slowly dry out.

Kuroo took in a deep breath, nuzzling into Kenma’s ribs and equally giving the younger man heart palpitations. This should have been documented as cruel and unusual punishment. “I,” his voice broke slightly, causing him to swallow and restart, “I don’t even know...what happened.”

“Why did you call me?”

“I was out,” Kuroo’s voice evened out to a monotonic timbre, reflecting the distance he’d held in eyes earlier, “with Tsukki.”

Unknowingly, Kenma held his breath as his nerves went on edge. It was going to be another one of _those_.

“I,” Kuroo was struggling to find words, “I don’t know...One moment, we’re walking down the street and the next,” he shook his head, burying his face further into Kenma and causing him to immediately run cold, “he’s yelling and I’m yelling and we both get caught up in that rain…”

This wasn’t the first fight between the pair. Kenma knew about them all - had witnessed some of the smaller blow-ups - and also knew that a majority of those fights revolved around the same instigation. Kuroo was in denial about being in a relationship with Tsukishima, despite being with the younger man for ten months now.

Ten months. Eleven days. Eighteen hours.

But who was counting?

Kenma also knew that he was brought up a lot in these fights. On a few accounts, he was even the epicenter. He didn’t feel ashamed or guilty in the least, and in fact, a little bit of pride would swell up knowing that he got underneath Tsukishima’s skin so much. Tsukishima wasn’t the first person to feel inferior to Kenma’s own relationship with Kuroo, but he was the first to endure it for so long.

“He called off our arrangement.”

New record. High score: Tsukishima Kei.

That small part of Kenma’s brain returned and cheered at the news. Relief flooded through him as it reassured a status quo. The pattern had been disrupted as this was the longest, exclusive “arrangement” his best friend had been in, but this should mean everything would right itself again. 

And yet...everything was different. Kenma could feel it ever since that phone call.Never once had Kuroo come to him after one of these “break-ups,” but he did today. He also never called Kenma without prompting unless it was an emergency.

And suddenly it wasn't _Kuroo_ breaking up with Tsukishima. It was _Tsukishima_ breaking up with Kuroo.

_“I need you.”_

His voice had been so raw and strained - maybe from yelling - and then his face came to mind...Kenma remembered a time where Kuroo openly wore the fear and anxiety on his sleeve and how over time that was all pushed down from prying eyes, turning into the overconfident and outgoing Kuroo of today. That facade had crumbled and left this current heap of…

Kenma felt sick as the pieces all started to click together:

1) Tsukishima and Kuroo had fought and “broken up.” 2) Kuroo had called Kenma to be consoled and was now currently _brooding_ on his bed. 3) He was sincerely affected by a relationship for the first time Kenma could ever recall.

Knowing that was terrifying.

“Kenma…?”

Blinking out of his reverie, Kenma came back to realize that his mindless ministrations through Kuroo’s damp hair had stopped. Looking down, he was met with rich golden irises, freckled unevenly at his pupils, intently captivating his attention. Kuroo always had a way to see right through him. His hair - no thanks to Kenma - was mostly brushed down with random wefts attempting to return to their natural untameable state and softened the sharper angles of his face; all the while his tongue darted out to lick at his chapped lips.

“You...wouldn’t ever leave me, right?” Kuroo murmured under the roar of the wind and rain outside. For someone so big, he sounded so small.

“Never.”

Kuroo instantly relaxed, resting his chin atop Kenma’s sternum, as an obvious alleviation sunk in - as if that confirmation was everything he needed then.

Kenma _hated_ this - himself. He wanted to scream and run away at the same time. He also wanted to confess everything and spill his guts to rid himself of this unnecessary heartache. Kuroo had practically been in a committed relationship for nearly a year now. What if there hadn’t been turmoil? What if Kuroo wasn’t emotionally stunted? What if...they hadn’t broken up today?

What if…

What if…

What if…

What if Kenma had lost Kuroo to Tsukishima?

He despised losing whether that was with video games, volleyball matches, or even petty little mind games between friends. Kenma had to face this, though, and realize that he came very close to defeat. This was becoming too strenuous to keep up, and he could feel his resolve crumbling with each time Kuroo came crawling back to him.

Kenma needed a break.

He wasn’t going to outright leave - after all he _just_ made that idiotic promise - because he didn’t think it was possible this late in his life anyways. However, Kenma definitely needed some distance. That was the only way his sanity would be able to stay intact. It was either that or a mutual confession right here and now, but the likelihood of that happening was next to zero.

“Kenma?”

“Hm?”

Their soft breathing had taken residence within the room as it matched the fluctuating rain outside. 

“Thanks.”

Kenma took in a slow breath, feeling Kuroo’s head rise with his chest before sinking on the low exhale. “What for?”

“For being you.”

His heart fluttered at the sentiment. How could Kuroo just say these things? It should be illegal how sappy and cheesy one person could be.

This was going to be hard.

 

* * *

 

“Kenma?”

Keiji’s voice pulled him out of that memory and brought him back to their apartment in the present. He looked down at the mug in front of him and watched as the little flecks of tea swirled at the bottom. The drink was supposed to soothe his nerves, but all Kenma felt right now was oncoming nausea.

It had been about two months, and he was no closer to feeling anything less for Kuroo than before. His jealousy still burned underneath his skin.

“I -”

“WIN!!”

An explosion of boisterous gloating and laughing burst through the front door, nearly breaking it down from the sound of the strained hinges. A few thuds tumbled in as shoes were deposited by the door and two pairs of feet pattered their way into view.

Shoyou and Tobio entered the living room together, both wearing that navy blue tracksuit with the red and white detailing down their pants and sleeves - the same one Lev had on when he left. They were both also red in the face and trying to contain how out of breath they were from (most likely) running all the way here from the train station.

It was Shoyou who stopped first as he spotted Keiji and Kenma at the table and blinked, his jaw went slack with apparent shock. Tobio followed next, though his normal indifference didn’t change. 

“Kenma, you’re...you’re here,” Shoyou cleared his throat, eyeing Keiji now.

Kenma furrowed his brow at the younger roommate in confusion. Looking over at his line of sight, Keiji also seemed to be just as lost as he was - keeping his mug close to his face as he watched Shoyou with earnesty. 

“Of course I am. I live here.”

“R-Right, right,” Shoyou’s usual snort fractured out of uneasiness.

Narrowing his eyes now, Kenma was about to comment on the sudden tension but was beaten by Keiji who instead asked, “How was the match?”

As if flipping a switch, Shoyou bounced right over with the biggest, goofiest grin on his face. His joy could not be contained as he waved his arms around in excitement. “Oh my gosh, you should have been there! It was amazing! Coach let me play with the first string for the entire game!”

The fridge opened in the kitchen.

“I was all over the place like _whoosh_ and _haaah_ and Kageyama,” he gestured to his long-term teammate as he returned from the kitchen, “kept setting up one spike after another for me! They were the best hits I’ve gotten in all year!”

Tobio took a long drag from his newly acquired milk box - he was the reason why Shoyou always had them on the shopping list - before adding, “You’re supposed to show off during tryouts, dumbass.”

“Sounds like a good match,” Kenma commented, finally stomaching the mug in his hand.

“Y-Yeah,” Shoyou stuttered, again giving Kenma an odd look as if this was the first time he had ever heard him speak, “it sure was!”

Keiji seemed to pick up on the same thought, putting his finished tea down on the table and tilting his head to the side, “Shoyou, is everything alright?”

Like a child being confronted by their parent, Shoyou sheepishly scratched his cheek and glanced at Tobio beside him. His eyes then made their way to Kenma’s direction before quickly reconnecting with Keiji’s steady gaze. “I, um, well, I wasn’t expecting for Kenma to be here,” he quietly admitted.

“What do you mean?” Keiji inquired, briefly glancing over at Kenma.

“He thought you would be over at Kuroo-san’s place after what happened last night.”

Kenma’s head snapped up, meeting Tobio’s well composed stare as he clutched the empty milk box and crushed it.

“What happened last night?” Keiji, once again, had beaten him to the punch, narrowing his eyes with cold calculation.

Someone could play the same game a thousand times over again and discover something they hadn’t realized before. A varying cast of characters usually kept things interesting and with continuous maintenance and DLC packs coming out, a player’s experience with a game was always changing. And yet, that same story played a thousand times still retained its significant predictability - major plot points, dialogue, and the characters had to stay the same or it would be a different game.

With older and more cherished games, there was expected wear on the discs or cartridges or even bugs within the system. And no matter how long you held onto them, that didn’t mean they could be fixed.

Eventually a decision was going to be made: to keep or throw away.

“Kuroo-san met with Tsukishima.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've taken on a bit more at work, so my writing time has been limited, but don't fear! I'm still working on this fic and doing my best to not leave you guys hanging for too long :)
> 
> As I do write and update the overall outline, smaller story lines tend to pop into my head. Would y'all be interested if I made this into a series and maybe focus on other pairings/backstories/etc? They would mostly be comprised of oneshots to not overload myself and would be released after I finish with this current fic ^w^
> 
> (I don't know why, but I always feel like I write Kenma a bit OOC ;w; )
> 
> Thank you again for all of the comments and kudos! <3


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He had felt the weight of the last couple of months come crashing down around him for nearly twenty-four hours now. Kenma had thought distancing himself had been best for both of them, and that it would have prepared him for something like this. But it hadn’t. Everything was worse, and now he actually regretted not saying anything sooner. He would rather have Kuroo’s known rejection than an unknown possibility._
> 
> _Holding out hope on a desire was the worst form of punishment anyone could inflict on themselves._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to apologize again for my slow updates! Work and life in general has been crazy, but I have not forgotten about this fic! My outline is like 95% finished, and I have a clearer understanding of how I want this fic to end (though we're still some time out from that) >.> Thank you so much for sticking around this long and reading. I appreciate all the kudos and comments y'all leave me and hopefully will be able to answer some comments today :)
> 
> Enjoy reading!

The type of characters who went out for brunch weren’t ones from any video games he’d ever played - even the romantic otome games on his phone - but they were from dramas often watched on television. Surprisingly, the only knowledge he had on these characters derived from Keiji’s guilty indulgence in such entertainment. Granted that didn’t mean he was against having brunch, but he wasn’t too keen on the idea of spending his Sunday surrounded by a whole lot of people.

Not after yesterday.

All Kenma really wanted to do was stay in bed and do absolutely nothing. He didn’t want to think about class on Monday or all of the projects coming due soon. And he especially didn’t want to think about the constant loop of memories plaguing his subconscious at the moment.

_“Kuroo-san met with Tsukishima.”_

Having never been physically slapped before, Kenma had to go off of a similar feeling of being struck by a volleyball to the face. His body had gone completely numb after Tobio uttered that statement, and suddenly, all of his fears he’d had over the last year (probably longer if he was going to be honest with himself) came bursting out.

Keiji - if Kenma remembered correctly because it was honestly all a blur at this point - had stayed by his side the entire rest of that day and even into the night, having curled up with Kenma in his bed until exhaustion overtook him.

When morning came, Kenma was a little bit more self-aware and meandered into the living room to investigate what day it was and if he should even bother. To no one’s surprise, he found Keiji sitting on the couch with his laptop on hand, scouring the device intensely, and despite being engrossed with what was on his screen, Keiji managed a soft smile before casting a glance towards Kenma’s direction.

And that’s when he found out about brunch.

“I’m not going.” 

That was Kenma’s flat-out answer with no emotion behind his refute. He had to stand firm or Keiji was going to get his way. Again.

“You’re going.” Keiji’s tone was just as steady and determined, probably more so than Kenma’s at the moment. “I was told ‘no’ was not an answer.”

“I didn’t say no,” Kenma crossed his arms now, wanting the security of his arms to keep him from caving in. “I said I wasn’t going.”

Keiji chuckled lightly at the loophole but shook his head. “I’m sorry, Kenma, but this one is entirely out of my hands.”

A higher power? Who was it? Kenma narrowed his eyes as he glared back at his roommate. From his experience, there were only a few people Keiji actually let “order” him around. For the most part, he would stand his ground and would not hold back being a stubborn little shit for his own gain - using that false “innocence” to his advantage at times.

“Tooru or Koushi?”

A defeated smirk touched the corner of Keiji’s mouth, closing his laptop and placing it gently on the coffee table in front of him. “Take your guess,” he challenged as he shook out the curls in his hair.

Kenma weighed his options with both. Listening to Tooru was entirely circumstantial to Keiji, depending on both of their moods and what the demand was; however, when unified, the pair was unstoppable at getting their way. If Tooru merely suggested brunch on a whim and asked for him to bring along Kenma, Keiji wouldn’t bother with both and immediately decline the offer to save himself a headache. Koushi, on the other hand, had his fingers sunk pretty deep into Keiji’s heart - having bonded immediately back in high school.

As he was about to make his guess, there was a rapid succession of knocks on the front door, drawing Kenma’s attention away from his roommate - the latter of which seemed nonchalant.

Seeing as Kenma wasn’t going to answer, Keiji got up from the couch and went over to the front door. Not even a moment later, a small, raucous man with his signature (still) spiked hair came bounding into the living room like an unstoppable bullet and threw his arms around Kenma’s neck.

He froze.

Kenma wasn’t prone to touching - certain people, yes, could almost at any time show small affectionate gestures like hand holding, hugging when warranted, and even kiss him on the cheek (a favorite of Tooru’s when he wanted to get under his skin). But the way this man didn’t hold back and went straight for the neck, remarkably was welcomed on all accounts.

“Kenma!!” Nishinoya Yuu shouted directly into his ear before pulling away to look at him.

Koushi.

Internally, Kenma cursed the silver haired man in his mind’s eye. He could turn down Keiji and Koushi easily, having done so in the past. Hell, he could turn down everyone if he wanted and no one would be able to do anything about it. Everyone, that was, except Nishinoya Yuu.

There was something especially endearing about Karasuno’s former libero. Him, Keiji, and Kenma had all bonded their third year together - mainly out of missing their respective upper classmen - but they all easily got along with each other. There was this innate desire to keep Yuu happy and never wanting to disappoint him. He was the ultimate weapon sought out for the big boss fights, and a small part of Kenma wanted to take this moment in stride at being considered a boss fight to Koushi.

Well played.

“Yuu,” Kenma breathed, trying to keep himself calm and prepared to decline him of all people, “I didn’t you know you were in town.”

“Neither did Asahi,” Yuu cackled. “Came down to surprise him! Thought I would surprise everyone else too.”

Kenma agreed, “It really is a surprise…”

Keiji interjected in the reunion, clearing his throat. He already had a light jacket thrown on, standing by the door and slipping his shoes on. The gaze he cast towards Kenma and Yuu was authoritative steel.

Yuu looked from Keiji to Kenma and let his natural radiance wash over him. Placing his hands on his hips and proudly jutting his chin out, he gestured towards the door, “Ready to go?”

And that’s what was called a K.O punch. Kenma wasn’t a fan of fighting games for a reason.

Defeated, he sighed, “Let me...change.”

“Take your time,” Keiji called out sweetly to him as Kenma lazily walked back to his bedroom.

When all was said and done, Kenma found himself outside in the brisk early November morning, watching as his breath gave away how cold he was. He shivered in his sweater, hoodie, _and_ jacket while keeping his hands stuffed in pockets, not even once looking at his phone on their little trip, and when he looked over at Yuu who only sported a light jacket that _wasn’t even zipped_ , he immediately wanted to say something - scold him. Yuu was utterly unphased, however, by the frigid air, probably because of his upbringing in Miyagi, but looking to Keiji made Kenma feel slightly better. His roommate wore a jacket and scarf combo that seemed appropriate for Kenma to shiver next to.

On their way, Kenma didn’t do much talking and neither did Keiji, though thankfully Yuu had that covered for all three of them. He spoke amenably about his time spent at school - still in Miyagi and much farther than any of their other friends - and the volleyball team he was apart of, going on his third year now. He even went on about almost every little thing that popped into his head, tacking on the latest visit he had to Asahi’s.

It turned out that his team didn’t pass the qualification rounds this year, ending their season earlier than expected. Yuu admitted he took it a little too rough on himself, which prompted his visit down. Seeing Asahi and spending time with other faraway friends helped to bring back his motivation and now he was feeling ready to tackle the off season.

Kenma admired Yuu’s tenacity. It took a lot of strength to face defeat and accept the reality of everything around before moving on.

By the time they reached the familiar apartment building, Kenma and Keiji were both thoroughly updated with the libero’s life journey up until now. Not a drop of information was missed, but at least that had provided noise. 

Before heading inside the building, however, Keiji had received a text that caused him to actually huff aloud. “You two go on up. I need to make a slight detour first.”

“Everything alright?” Yuu blinked, curiously cocking his head to the side.

Keiji gave a half-hearted smile, “Hopefully.”

Kenma simply furrowed his brows at that, not exactly trusting this “detour” of his.

“Okay! But if you get back and the pancakes are all gone, you’ll know why,” Yuu snickered before flashing his teeth.

“Yes, yes, I will take full responsibility,” Keiji held up a hand as he nodded along. “I shouldn’t be too long.” And with that, he turned from the building, pulled out his phone, and walked away with an awaiting phone call.

Kenma trusted Keiji immensely; however, that did not negate the fact that the latter was a sly bastard when he wanted to be. He often flew under everyone’s radar but not Kenma’s. There was something going on. He just didn’t know -

Yuu had taken Kenma’s wrist and pulled him forward towards the apartment building, leading through the automatic doors and proudly marching to the elevators. “Don’t wanna miss out on the pancakes, do you?”

Right, he was being babysat.

A small part of Kenma suspected Yuu as well. How much was he aware of the others’ ploys? How much of this was all coincidence? He hated being deceived, and if Yuu was in on whatever this was, Kenma was _not_ going to be happy.

Reaching Morisuke’s floor, Kenma was grateful for the silence. He could hear his thoughts again and attempted to steady his thinking.

There was no way that Nishinoya Yuu was deceiving him. Not possible. Kenma knew that 1) Yuu never had anything to hide and always spoke what was on his mind, and 2) he was the absolute worst liar in the history of cozenage. If anything, Yuu was as much of a victim to this whole scheme as Kenma was.

While Kenma was trying to sift through possible shifty suspects, Yuu had already rapidly pounded against Morisuke’s front door, disrupting the serene morning bubble in the hallway.

No answer.

Yuu furrowed his brows before banging on the door again, letting out an “Oi!” to reach past the barrier.

Again, another few moments ticked by and no answer.

“Morisuke! Open up!” Yuu yelled now, surely surpassing annoyance with the neighbors this early in the morning. “Mori -”

The door opened with a sudden flourish, a flash funnel of cold air being sifted between the threshold and causing Kenma to shiver in all his layers. Looking up, yes _up_ , was not Morisuke - the tenant of the apartment - but Lev, who was in nothing but a pair of red and black boxers. Lev who was Kenma’s roommate. Lev who was last seen rushing out of the apartment still wearing his volleyball uniform with nothing but a haphazardly packed backpack.

Yeah, this was no surprise.

“Lev!” Yuu shouted cheerily from beside Kenma, excitement replacing shock. “You were invited to brunch too?”

Lev lazily blinked at the pair, leaning against the doorframe and running a hand through his thoroughly mussed hair. “Brunch…?” His voice sounded hoarse.

“I told you to _wait_ , you idiot,” an angrier, shriller voice hissed behind the flagpole of a man, quickly shoving him away from the door.

Morisuke looked much more kept than Lev did, having had the forethought into putting pants on and a plain looking t-shirt. He also attempted at taming his own short locks, smoothing the ends with his fingers as he approached the entryway. There was a clear difference in their experience.

“Good morning,” Kenma said politely, though it was anything but. He had to suppress a smirk as he made eye contact with Morisuke.

“Yaku, you had company coming over? Why didn’t you say anything?” Lev blinked at him.

“I...forgot.”

Yuu just laughed in place, shoulders shaking and sniggering behind a fist.

Morisuke’s neck and ears flared up in embarrassment, but he was still nice enough to push Lev aside and let his guests in. As the door closed behind them, he looked to Kenma, “Where’s Akaashi?”

“Detour,” Kenma watched his face carefully, waiting to see his expression change even the slightest bit.

But nothing happened. Morisuke remained neutral as he nodded, knowingly. “Ah,” was all he said before looking back at Lev, “Oi, go put on some clothes.”

Yuu clapped a hand onto Morisuke’s back, giving him an shit-eating grin, “Way to go, Mori! Knew you had it in ya.”

The blush Morisuke had been sporting broke out even further as it burnt on his cheeks.

Lev returned from Morisuke’s bedroom - the other two bedrooms remaining closed as always. He was wearing his track pants from the previous day but had the decency of putting on a clean looking shirt, though it was extensively wrinkled from being shoved into a backpack. Rejoining the rest of them, Lev went over to plop down on the couch beside Yuu and Kenma, fully extending his long extremities as if he had never done so before. After all, there was an absurd amount of leg room in Morisuke’s apartment. Kenma was just thankful that Yuu sat in between him and Lev.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” Morisuke waved at them as he went to his kitchen, “I’m going to get started on breakfast.”

“Brunch,” Kenma corrected him. Honestly, breakfast was more accurate as it was too early to be combining two meals, but there was a pleasant ring to “brunch” (which he would not admit aloud) that made it more than a meal.

Morisuke just rolled his eyes at that.

Despite being here the other night, Kenma took a moment to properly look around the apartment this time. Daylight flooded in through the glossy, tinted floor-to-ceiling windows that stretched across the entire wall. He hadn’t really noticed the reason behind the lack of curtains before, but now it made sense. It seemed Morisuke really appreciated vulnerability, choosing to live in such a modern, open concept apartment, and yet even he kept certain doors (both figuratively and literally) locked. Kenma knew and understood why. As warm and inviting as Morisuke was, even he had secrets he wished to hide.

Which was the reason Kenma was beginning to feel fucking pissed off. 

This wasn’t brought on by Lev and Yuu beside him. They were talking about the game from the other day - the practice match Lev, Shoyou, and Tobio had been apart of. Yuu was excited to know about how his former kouhai were doing. Lev animatedly discussed the match in great detail, surprisingly since he actually included plays done by his other teammates, and Yuu practically vibrated beside him eating up the play-by-play retelling.

He was used to high energy recounts.

No, instead, Kenma focused his fuming irritation on the tenant, staring at him from the living room. Morisuke peered over the island counter top where several mixing bowls were spread out and locked eyes with Kenma. Call it intuition or a hunch, but Kenma had this overwhelming feeling that his former libero was internally _laughing_ at him.

Getting up from the couch, Kenma stalked his way over into the kitchen and leaned against the counter across from their host. Lev and Yuu hadn’t even missed his disappearance, which was good because he hadn’t really been paying too much attention anyways.

“Can I help you?” Morisuke was calm, mixing what was probably pancake batter in a large, metal bowl. He kept his eyes down, but it was clear he was paying attention to Kenma’s closer presence.

Kenma didn’t respond, simply narrowing his eyes instead. Since he ruled out Yuu having been on today’s gathering, he had to investigate Morisuke’s involvement. Afterall, this was happening at his own apartment.

Morisuke finished with the batter, and with the stove prepped, he began to pour out round portions onto the pan. “Let me guess,” he finally added, glancing over to meet Kenma’s eyes, “this is about Lev?”

Blinking, Kenma was taken aback. That certainly hadn’t been on his mind (having accepted an eventual pair up for years now), but sure, let’s go with that one. He had wanted to ask what was so funny…

“Hey, don’t give me that look,” Morisuke pointed a finger in his direction, “ _you_ were the one to tell me to call him.”

Alright, fair enough.

“Besides...after what happened with Ku-”

“So sorry we’re late!”

The organizer, no, mastermind of the entire morning had finally arrived with Keiji appearing right behind him. Koushi’s hair was windswept and stuck out in all directions, and his cheeks had been pinched pink from the cold. He unraveled his worn black and orange scarf, which stood out against his newer, more fashionable gray coat, and hung them both up before slipping out of his shoes. Keiji mimicked his actions, carefully hanging up his own scarf and jacket, while carefully cradling the brown paper bag he’d entered with against his chest.

“‘Bout time! You guys almost missed the pancakes!” Yuu called from the couch, his grin easily reaching the front door.

Keiji looked over towards him and cocked an eyebrow at seeing Lev right beside him, though the surprise wasn’t evident on his face. Yeah, he and Kenma accepted this years ago.

Koushi chuckled as he reached the island countertop next to Morisuke. “That’s what we like to call perfect timing. Besides, we managed to bring the most important ingredient.”

Also joining them at the counter, Keiji took out the large green bottle with gold foil and placed it down. Kenma wouldn’t call champagne the most important ingredient, especially not with pancakes, but if this was being called “brunch” then he wasn’t really that surprised.

“I have juice in the fridge if you wanted to get that started,” Morisuke told them as he flipped the first batch.

With everyone finally gathered together, Morisuke finished up the pancakes while Koushi was busy making drinks to pair with them. Keiji assisted as well, having prepared a fruit salad from whatever was in Morisuke’s fridge, and the food was set out on the table in no time. Unlike the table in Kenma’s apartment, Morisuke’s round table got much more use entertaining friends and was convenient for social settings like this. It made for easy conversations and for the most part, Kenma could just listen to everyone else around him.

He did not want to be here.

Kenma just wanted to be back at home and in bed, drifting in and out of consciousness. He didn’t want to be around people who would look at him as if they knew what he was feeling. They didn’t know. No one could understand the overwhelming numbness that wanted to paralyze him every time he moved or even breathed. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to both _do something_ and nothing at the same time. What exactly could he do?

Admitting to sidestepping your emotions for someone else was much easier said than done. Kenma thought he had been prepared for this option for years. He wanted Kuroo to be happy - always wanted that - but Kenma selfishly wanted to be the one to bring Kuroo that happiness. If it had been anyone else...would his world have shattered this much?

Absolutely.

He had felt the weight of the last couple of months come crashing down around him for nearly twenty-four hours now. Kenma had thought distancing himself had been best for both of them, and that it would have prepared him for something like this. But it hadn’t. Everything was worse, and now he actually regretted not saying anything sooner. He would rather have Kuroo’s known rejection than an unknown possibility.

Holding out hope on a desire was the worst form of punishment anyone could inflict on themselves.

“...making a big impression.”

“Dai-san’s been working that hard, huh?” Yuu asked, reaching for another stack of pancakes. His plate was already wiped clean and ready for the next round.

Kenma had been sandwiched between Yuu and Keiji, giving him the better angle to stare directly across at Morisuke. He’d been aware of the vigilant gaze the moment he had walked into the apartment, but now it burned right through him as if Morisuke could read right into his mind. Kenma shifted in his seat very slightly and played it off as avoiding Yuu’s eager appetite.

Koushi sighed on the other side of Yuu, but there was a fond smile stretched across his face. “Don’t get me wrong,” he started and absently played with his fingers, squeezing down on his ring finger, “I’m so, so proud of him and want him to focus on his goals right now.”

“But?” Keiji added after a moment went by without Koushi continuing.

There was a slight twitch in Koushi’s smile as he nodded, “But I miss him. Our schedules are horrendous.”

“You sound just like Oikawa and Iwaizumi,” Morisuke snickered beside him.

Koushi jabbed a finger in his direction, “You would too if you only got to see someone you loved for only an hour a day.”

“And it wasn’t any easier when volleyball was involved, hm?” Keiji chirped, taking a sip of his champagne flute.

“That was even worse,” Koushi agreed. “At least we get weekends together now.”

Keiji nodded knowingly, “They have one tracked minds. Koutarou’s schedule is comprised of time spent either on the court, in class, or in the gym.”

“Must be difficult studying for class in the weight room,” Morisuke called across the table. 

Lev nearly dropped the bite he was about to take, “You study for class in the weight room?”

Keiji simply flicked Lev with a lazy stare before humming confirmation. With how rowdy Shoyou and Lev were around the apartment, a weight room was practically the same as the library. The only real distraction would be Koutarou. “You do what you can and make it work,” he finally said, and Kenma somehow felt that was directed more towards himself than to Lev who asked the question.

“The hardest was definitely the away games,” Koushi cut back in. “An entire weekend just cut right out.”

Morisuke nodded, “There are a few coming up which I’ve already overheard Oikawa complaining about. I don’t know how he’ll get over it when he goes pro.”

“He won’t,” Keiji said softly.

“Professional or not, Tooru will always be Tooru,” Koushi gave another fond smile. “Being apart from someone is never easy, but we learn to adjust to it. I mean, just look to Noya and Asahi.”

Yuu blinked as he was addressed, his face stuffed with breakfast and taken by surprise at the sudden mention. He and Asahi were prefectures apart, and yet they were still together. Kenma talked with Yuu just about daily and knew that their relationship was built on their steady communication whether that was texting, phone calls, video calls, or even sending ridiculous videos back and forth to one another. They were solid and unmoving.

Swallowing whatever had been shoved into his hamster-like cheeks, Yuu grinned over at Morisuke, “Speaking of pros!”

“We weren’t.”

“Mori!” Yuu ignored Keiji’s subtle dismissal of topic change, “Have you heard from any recruiters yet? Any plans on which teams to try out for?”

“Oh, well, I…” Morisuke’s ears burned red at the intensity of Yuu’s questions. “I’ve thought about it but...I’m not -”

“You should do it,” Lev encouraged beside him.

Morisuke blinked at him, his mouth still open as his flush started to creep down his neck.

“You’re an awesome libero.”

“Lev…”

“You know, because you’re so short.”

Kenma rolled his eyes as he heard a hard thwack and a yelp. 

“He’s not wrong,” Yuu interrupted.

“I don’t need to hear that coming from you,” Morisuke growled, cracking his knuckles while Lev gently nursed the back of his head.

“You’re an amazing libero, Mori! You really should consider going pro.”

Morisuke sighed and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest now. “It’s not that easy, Yuu. As much as I love volleyball, there are other things that I want. I’m sure Koushi and Keiji can agree. Sometimes our desires are greater than just one thing and sacrifices have to be made.”

“Do they?”

Kenma knew everyone had a main quest - an ending objective to their storyline - but along the way side quests were either picked up and initiated or put off for another time. You could hold multiples of these side quests and complete them at your own pace either one-by-one or simultaneously. There weren’t distinct rules that you had to follow (most of the time) and anything could happen as a result of their completion. 

So did someone really have to sacrifice one quest for another?

Morisuke simply blinked at Kenma’s question, cocking his head to the side. “Do they....what?”

“Sacrifices,” Kenma responded, waving his hand noncommittally, “do they have to be made?”

“You should at least try!” Yuu jumped right back into the conversation, eager to support Kenma’s point. “It never hurts to try.”

“You do what you can and make it work,” Kenma repeated Keiji’s words and noticed out of the corner of his eye the twitch in his roommate’s lips. 

Morisuke looked at the three of them (Keiji included) and narrowed his eyes. “You know, I feel like I’m being ganged up on.”

“You’re no different from Tooru, Koutarou, or Kuroo.” Kenma told him, tasting the weight of each name on his tongue. Kuroo’s name left a strange, bitter taste, so he reached for his tea. “Kuroo’s said it plenty of times, you know. What’s the worst that could happen?”

There was a long pause. And somehow it felt as if their topic was no longer on Morisuke or volleyball anymore. 

Kenma noticed an exchange in glances between Koushi, Morisuke, and Keiji - that earlier suspicion crawling back over his skin. He was aware that this brunch was a set up by Koushi in an attempt to communicate something. There was a sense of dread about that “something” that he did not want to acknowledge, and it was making another appearance now. He was envious of Yuu and Lev’s obliviousness.

Narrowing his eyes, Kenma grasped his tea cup a bit harder, feeling the tension from his shoulders all the way down to his knuckles. If they had something to say, they should say it. Using brunch to soften the blow was cruel.

The silence must have dragged on for too long because Lev looked around at everyone and went to open his mouth, but he yelped instead of saying what had come to mind. Morisuke sent him a pointed glare in an attempt to keep him quiet.

Yuu, however, didn’t have a controller or a filter because he took Lev’s cue to ask, “What’s going on?”

“Oh? You didn’t know?” Kenma could hear how his own voice dripped with venom. “Everything was building up to this moment.”

“Kenma -”

“No. Stop.” He shrugged away from Keiji’s concerned touch and stared directly at Koushi, ignoring everyone else. This was all his idea anyway. “What is this _really_ all about?”

“Is this about the KuroTsuki thing?”

Kenma clenched his hands in his lap, feeling his knuckles strain yet again to contain his uncharacteristic outburst. It had always been the bane of his existence to hear their names smashed together like that as if they were an item straight out of America’s Hollywood. 

Lev gave another yelp as he was probably punished by Morisuke again from under the table.

“What KuroTsuki thing?” Yuu voiced since no one else was going to elaborate. His eyes flicked across every face as he waited for someone to speak up.

Finally, after about a minute of being stared down, Koushi caved but not without a dramatic huff and a shake of his head. “I wanted to address this before it got out of hand.”

There it was. 

Confirmation that Koushi organized all of this should have sated some part of him, but Kenma only grew angrier - the numbness now flaring to life as he quietly seethed. Why couldn’t he just have been left alone to ride out this imaginary not breakup-breakup? He would have been fine by Monday.

“First off,” Koushi held up a finger, “you’ve been isolating yourself all semester long, I found out, which is not healthy even for you. And second,” he added, “you should know they are not back together.”

Wait.

“They’re not...”

Koushi’s smile was angelic. It was careful gentleness that graced his softer features and could make anyone believe him. This was the smile of someone who could earn the trust of anyone in just a tilt of his head. It was the smile that made Kenma’s anger dissolve instantaneously as if it was never there to begin with.

Keiji’s hand comforted his shoulder as he caught Kenma’s attention. “I spoke with Koutarou last night and this morning. I wanted to tell you, but I knew you wouldn’t listen to me in the apartment.”

Kenma felt the blood pounding in his ears, making it harder to hear everything around him. He had let his fear take over yesterday (stupid really), and now relief flooded through him. He suddenly noticed how easy it was to breathe again, and everything slowly clicked back into place.

Instead of restarting the game, creating another account under a different user, Kenma could play from where he last saved. He wasn’t about to face a boss fight he would be ill prepared for. No, none of that had to happen. There was still a chance to redirect on his quest. He usually didn’t play multiplayer games - not wanting to have to rely on an uncontrollable party - but this time around, he was really thankful to have the support.

“But that’s not all,” Koushi’s humming reeled Kenma back to reality, casting him a mischievous wink, “a little birdie might have also let it slip that things are recognizably mutual~”

Keiji’s head snapped towards Koushi, and Kenma knew he was sending a lethal glare his way - he could feel the tension from his roommate beside him. Kenma gave a slow blink, letting his eyes stay closed for a few seconds, before reaching out and squeezing Keiji’s thigh and gaining the man’s attention. The returning gesture from him indicated infallible confirmation.

For the first time all morning, Kenma could feel the weight of his phone in his pocket.

“That must feel amazing, Kenma!” Yuu cheered beside him, throwing a celebratory arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.

“What are you going to do?”

Morisuke’s question cut across the table like a knife. His eyes had barely strayed from him all morning, leading up to this question, and pondering what Kenma’s next move would be after finding confirmation. His question hadn’t allowed Kenma even a second to take in what all of this meant - instead, it propelled his mind forward into hundreds of different outcomes. 

What _was_ he going to do?

Kenma couldn’t just sit back any longer. Knowing that Kuroo could possibly go back to Tsukishima had sent him too far over the edge for his liking. The remorse had just poured out of him, and he knew that that wasn’t how he wanted all of this to end. If anything was to happen (good or bad), he didn’t want there to be any regrets.

“No need to rush him,” Koushi came to Kenma’s defense. “Some people need to be a bit more clear headed before deciding on the best course of action. I mean, if it wasn’t for Kuroo, Dai and I...um,” he cleared his throat, a slight flush brightening along his neck, “well, it still would have happened, but it wouldn’t have been that easy. Probably would have waited until graduation…”

“I say go for it!” Yuu puffed his chest out and jabbed his thumb towards himself. “That’s what I did with Asahi.”

Koushi sniggered, quickly clapping a hand to his mouth to contain himself.

Ignoring or simply not noticing his ex-vice captain beside him, Yuu continued, “I’ve never been good with words, you know. I just needed to tell him exactly how I felt, so I did. I reached out, grabbed his jersey, and pulled him down for a kiss.”

“Jersey?” Morisuke quipped. “Were you...at a game?”

Koushi keeled over, tossing his head back cackling.

“After a practice game,” Yuu nodded. “I waited all season to say something and just couldn’t hold back any longer.”

“Scared the shit out of Asahi and our senpais,” Koushi sighed, finally coming off his fit. “I won a few bets that day~”

“How did Azumane-san take it?” asked Lev, his curiosity getting the better of him as he intruded on the conversation.

Koushi’s laughing fit reared back, nearly causing him to fall out of his chair. Yuu ignored his second wind before grinning. “He never saw it coming.”

Keiji hummed as his eyes tilted up towards the ceiling, a thought or memory distracting him momentarily.

“And of course we talked about it afterwards!” Yuu was quick to chime back in, returning to look at Kenma, “But kissing him was the most direct way I knew to tell him. I wanted it all out in the open, so it was loud and clear of how I felt. All or nothing.”

That was classic Nishinoya Yuu. How he could take something so complicated and make it seem so simple. It wasn’t bad advice - not by a long shot - but Kenma was a bit unsure of the idea.

The words “recognizably mutual” glued themselves to the back of Kenma’s mind. The feelings had always been mutual between him and Kuroo - albeit one was more dense than the other. But “recognizably” meant Kuroo was _aware_ now. He knew of Kenma’s emotions and finally realized his own, though whether or not he was at terms yet was still in the air.

They needed to talk.

Kenma _wanted_ to talk.

Just because someone realized their feelings didn’t mean they would reciprocate - mutual or not. There was still a choice to be made. Rejection was a possibility that hung heavy over Kenma’s head and caused a new wave of fear to wash over him. 

Then again, this was Kuroo. Kenma had kept his feelings hidden for years because he didn’t want to influence Kuroo’s decision for his sake. This was completely uncharted territory - unpredictable - with no strategy he could possibly mark out for this battle. It left his heart hammering in his chest, rapid and unyielding, but it was steady. 

_All or nothing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday Kenma!!!!!!! Totally did not plan on posting this Kenma POV chapter on his birthday, but with great timing comes great....responsibility?
> 
> Idk but anyways! I mapped out the calendar events of when this fic takes place and I totally skipped over Kenma's birthday in the timeline >.> I might go back and write a small oneshot, but seeing as there's been a bit of tension thus far in the fic, I have no ideas on doing that XD I do have an idea in mind for Kuroo's birthday though since they're about a month apart! 
> 
> The next chapter is definitely one of my favorites and we're back to Kuroo's POV, so stay tuned!
> 
> And as always, thank you for putting up with this slow burn bullshit~ ;) Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated ;w;


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Is this really what it’s like? I feel like I’m up against a synchro attack. I know the spike is coming - I can_ feel _it, but I can’t see who it’s for. There are no other blockers except for myself and honestly at this point, I know defeat is coming.”_
> 
> _“If that’s the case, then why are you still playing the set?”_
> 
> _“Because...then it would be over,” he took in a breath, “and I...don’t want it to be over.”_

It all started on Sunday. 

He got up as usual with the sun and headed out to the park to run with Bokuto. When they finished, they headed back to the apartment to coordinate showers and divide up breakfast. Kuroo was not a cook and neither was Bokuto, but after their morning runs, both men were practically starving for whatever calories they could get their hands on. So Kuroo took his shower first since he could at least make eggs without burning down the kitchen.

After he made enough food for Bokuto and himself (even leaving some for Oikawa and Iwaizumi), he fished out his phone and opened up to his messages. He was about to press send on his ritual “good morning” text to Kenma when it all came rushing back.

“I’m in love with Kenma,” Kuroo had whispered to himself, staring at his phone with the frying pan sizzling somewhere beside him.

That had only been the start of his not-so-good-terrible week.

The rest of that Sunday was spent in a haze of spiraling realizations that indicated his feelings should have been obvious for years to reasons why Kuroo should _not_ date his best friend - coming up with only two very valid points: 2) he’d never been in a committed relationship before and sure as hell didn’t know how any of that worked, so he was bound to fuck something up; and 1) most importantly, Kuroo could not afford to lose Kenma - specifically _his_ Kenma. 

Often times in relationships things changed. He’d seen it happen amongst his friends, although these were minor changes to adapt to their partners, and the underlying fear that it could be more than that remained. Kenma had always grounded him to reality, but if they got together, that would change...right?

When Monday came, Kuroo still felt fuzzy around the edges and was dragged down by the weight in his chest. His classes felt like static and practice had been a blur. He had a scheduled tutoring session, but he could have taught quantum physics for all that he was aware of. By the time he made it home that night, Kuroo was fully exhausted and crashed in his bed without touching any of his assignments.

Tuesday was a rude awakening. Early morning practice tossed him around so much that being chewed out by his coach was actually a welcomed reprieve of his berating thoughts. Bo tried teasing him to pull him out of his funk, but Oikawa’s added scolding soured everything around him. That was what he needed, though, before going off to his lab - he couldn’t run on autopilot for that. By the time evening practices rolled around, the fog had come back full force, and it took everything in his power to keep up with his teammates. They had a tournament coming up fast, and if Kuroo didn’t get his shit together, he was definitely going to be replaced by some random freshman who at least could pay attention to where the ball was coming from.

Day four, Wednesday, had him waking up in a cold sweat. It had been a dream like any other - a very pleasant dream in fact - but quickly divulged and unraveled into this overwhelming feeling of _need_. He could barely grasp and hold onto the remnants of feverish kisses, pressed warmth, and a whisper of his name that left him practically immobile upon waking. This hadn’t been the first dream to leave him like he was, but with the increased frequency, they certainly were going to be the death of him. Kuroo hoped for a quick death at practice instead.

Now it was Thursday, which signaled the end of Kuroo’s school week and brought along a whole new level of anxiety. There was a tournament this weekend - an important stage of prelims - and if he wasn’t up to par, his entire team would have no trouble benching him. Hell, _he_ would bench himself for the way he’d been performing since Saturday, waking up with that god awful hangover. But the anxiety didn’t stop there. No, it brewed underneath the guise of the upcoming tournament while he stared at what little free time he had from now until then. To his surprise (no, seriously), all of Kuroo’s assignments were pretty much completed, though he didn’t want to look at the work he’d done, and he had no real desire to leave the apartment to go out. 

What was he going to do?

Kuroo took on a few extra hours at the tutoring center, a rare but much needed out. Working with freshmen and busying himself in academics, he found a rather pleasant escape he hadn’t felt all week. He probably would have stayed at the center longer if he wasn’t already so physically drained from all the rough practices - and the additional drills done at the gym with Bo and Oikawa. It was like they were trying to kill him.

Toeing off his shoes by the door, Kuroo made his way back to his bedroom and dropped his backpack by his desk. He flopped onto his bed face first into his pillows and released a long, drawn out sigh. Last he was aware, his clock had read 22:15, which seemed conventionally acceptable to call it a day and go to bed - wouldn’t be the first time he went to bed that early this week. But as willingly as his body was to agree to that deal, his mind refused almost instantly.

He looked to his phone.

The device laid on his nightstand beside his bed, having had the forethought to fish it out before collapsing onto his mattress. There was a flashing blue light to indicate an unread message, so he reached over and swiped it open, rolling onto his back to read. Nothing of real interest caught his attention, but before he put the phone back down, Kuroo thumbed over the unsent “good morning” text from Sunday. It had saved as a draft, and he hadn’t texted Kenma since then.

And Kenma hadn’t texted him.

Kuroo released a groan as he tossed his phone to the end of the bed, hearing a satisfying _thud_ to reassure the distance. Out of sight but not entirely out of mind.

After taking a moment to stare at his ceiling, he dug the edges of his palms into his eyes until he saw white specks dancing across his vision. Kuroo heaved a sigh and sat upright, scrubbing a hand down his face and through his hair before deciding to get up in search of something to snack on. When in doubt, eating was the cure-all for boredom in his book.

Kuroo padded out into the kitchen, barely wanting to move his feet, and headed straight for the fridge. He went on autopilot as he scanned the leftover takeout containers but did no more than grimace at what was available as usual. Instead, he opened up the freezer and decided to go for his last resort: triple chocolate fudge. Moving aside Oikawa’s mint pistachio, Kuroo retrieved his container, fetched a spoon, and leaned against the counter to take a bite.

It was a scientific fact that chocolate - dark chocolate specifically - helped alleviate and improve one’s mood. And Kuroo would always use this excuse to get away with a few bites, especially during his more active seasons.

In between spoonfuls of whipped fudge, Kuroo was vaguely aware of his feet carrying him from the kitchen before depositing him in the living room. He plopped down in the armchair, kicked his feet up on the coffee table, and dug out another waiting bite when he registered something as off.

“Don’t you two have class?” blurted Kuroo.

Tuesday and Thursday nights were lecture nights for both Oikawa and Iwaizumi, but instead, they were spending this Thursday night here at the apartment together. It felt out of place seeing them actually spend time together on a weeknight, which should not have outweighed the current situation that Kuroo had stumbled upon.

“Do you mind?” Oikawa sassed back.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Kuroo quipped and bit into that temporarily forgotten bite of ice cream.

Iwaizumi had pinned Oikawa to the sofa on his back. His perfectly coiffed hair was mussed beyond recognition having been squirming beneath his boyfriend only a moment ago. His lips were kissed red and swollen with his cheeks flushed pink, and his t-shirt rode up to reveal the paler planes of his torso. Iwaizumi, on the other hand, seemed more composed albeit for the matching kiss swollen lips and annoyed scowl on his face for being interrupted.

“And give you more fap material?” Iwa huffed, though he remained hovering over his perfectly wrecked boyfriend.

Humming, Kuroo gave them both a considerate look over before stuffing another scoop into his mouth and smiling around the spoon. “Having a visual once in a while never hurts~”

“What do you want, Tetsurou?” Oikawa narrowed his eyes now.

Kuroo simply shrugged in response and let his spoon drop into the ice cream container. There wasn’t much left but somehow he would feel guilty if he finished it off.

Oikawa huffed and tapped at Iwa’s shoulder to move out from under him, sitting up straight and running his fingers through his hair. “If you have nothing better to do, why don’t you go pay Kenma a little visit?”

Kuroo flinched at that, suppressing an irritated whine. “I can’t just...show up there,” he murmured.

“Never stopped you before.”

“That was...different.”

“Oh? Different how? Do go into extensive detail of your latest and pointless existential crisis,” Oikawa deadpanned, annoyance twitched in his brow.

He might have been a bit obvious about how all of this was affecting him, not able to do much about his new vacant look and distracted tendencies, but that did not mean this was an existential crisis. That sounded a bit...extreme. But Oikawa’s annoyance was understandable, seeing as how this affected Kuroo’s performance on the court. Even if the coaches and Bo held higher authority, Oikawa was the ultimate decision on who was usable come game day.

“Fuck off, Tooru,” Kuroo grumbled, no real bite behind his words. He just sounded as he felt - tired. “I can’t just...Look, it’s not like how it used to be. I’m sure he knows that I know I know now...and what if he’s expecting something? What am I supposed to say?”

“That you’re in love with him.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“‘Course it is. You just look him in the eye and say,” Oikawa turned to face Iwaizumi, “I love you, Kenma. I’ve loved you since we were kids and will always love you.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “You don’t understand...You’ve been telling Iwaizumi you’ve loved him since the day you met him. _This_ ,” he pressed his free hand to his chest and took a deep breath, “is so much different.”

“And everyone says I’m the dramatic one,” sneered Oikawa. “You need to get over it, Tetsurou, and just tell him. Just _talk_ to him and -”

“I haven’t texted him since Friday.”

Iwaizumi winced out of the corner of Kuroo’s eye. 

“So?”

Kuroo looked back to Oikawa, feeling a surge of frustration - which was actually comforting compared to the numbness that had continued throughout the week. “So...how can I talk to him if I can’t even text him? God, Tooru, I can’t even - ugh!” He put his melting container down on the coffee table in front of him and leaned forward, rubbing at his temples. “What the fuck am I supposed to say?”

It was Oikawa’s turn to roll his eyes now. “I already answered that. Why do you have to hide? What are you so afraid of? Kenma saying no?”

Kuroo’s head snapped up at the last question, a pained expression plastered on his face. He had been thinking about it all week. Kenma simply saying “no” meant a lot of things. Kuroo would respect it, obviously, but it would still be rejection. He was terrified that this one word could alter an entire life of memories and if Kenma didn’t want him - knowing everything down to the deepest, darkest part of whom he was - then maybe no one -

“That’s not going to happen.” Iwaizumi’s voice cut through the spiraling nonsense that had temporarily taken over - as if he could see what was going through Kuroo’s mind.

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa was just as surprised as Kuroo at Iwaizumi’s interjection.

“Had it ever crossed your mind that I would say no, Tooru?” Iwa directed his own question to his boyfriend. He reached his fingers out and carefully brushed Oikawa’s cheek, a distant look to his eyes. 

Stammering, Oikawa tried to find his words, “W-Well, yeah, I mean, we all think that at some point before confessing. Not even I’m that arrogant...” He trailed off as the thought clicked in with the situation.

“Mm,” Iwa hummed in approval.

Kuroo aggressively rubbed at his face and tossed his head back, groaning out his frustrations. He knew the inevitable was bound to happen, but it was that anticipation - that build up which was killing him. Every hour that went by felt like a year shaved off his life.

The front door opened and both Bokuto and Akaashi entered the apartment. Their muffled voices came to a stop as their conversation died at the entryway, seeing the other three gathered in the living room. Bo dropped his bag by the door, kicked off his shoes, and went over to check in on his roommates while Akaashi strolled into the kitchen, keeping his distance from the conversation as he started a pot of tea.

Bokuto leaned most of his weight on one armrest and draped an arm across the back of the chair. He looked between Kuroo and the couple to get an understanding of what was being discussed, but when no one answered his concerning look, he had no choice but to ask, “What’s up?”

Kuroo only groaned in response, throwing his arm over his face.

“Oh, you know, just throwing another pity party, but damn,” Oikawa crossed his arms over his chest, “I forgot the cake this time around.”

Bo bumped Kuroo’s shoulder and tilted his head. “Hey, dude, you wanna go for a run or something? Or maybe we could go to the convenience store down the street? My treat.”

Iwa sighed, shaking his head as if to write this night off as another lost cause, and left the living room to head to his and Oikawa’s bedroom. He probably had some homework or whatever to attend to anyways.

Kuroo saw that as his opportunity to invade the couch, quickly claiming Iwa’s spot and curling up onto his side. He made himself comfortable by resting his head in Oikawa’s lap and burying his face against his knees - gaining an exaggerated “oof” in response. It was always impossible to stretch out on their sofa, but that couldn’t stop Kuroo from smooshing Oikawa against the cushions anyways.

Bo slid into the now empty armchair and slumped back, pouting at not being able to join the cuddle pile on the couch. As Akaashi walked out of the kitchen with a steaming mug in hand, he reached out and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist to pull him into the armchair with him. Akaashi remained unfazed and adjusted in Bokuto’s lap, always remaining half expectant for whatever random thing Bo did next.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” asked Kuroo, his voice obstructed against Oikawa’s thighs.

“Do you really want an answer to that?” Oikawa pinched Kuroo’s side, but the latter remained unaffected.

Kuroo heaved another sigh as he continued, “Is this really what it’s like? I feel like I’m up against a synchro attack. I know the spike is coming - I can _feel_ it, but I can’t see who it’s for. There are no other blockers except for myself and honestly at this point, I know defeat is coming.”

A volleyball analogy - while very cliche as it was - actually eased the knot in Kuroo’s chest somewhat. It was the first time all week he was able to put some of what he was feeling into words.

“If that’s the case, then why are you still playing the set?” Akaashi was the one to ask after taking a long sip from his tea.

Kuroo blinked slowly at the question, processing it for a moment. “Because...then it would be over,” he took in a breath, “and I...don’t want it to be over.”

“You can always play another game,” Bo simply pointed out.

He went still at that realization. Play another game - a new game. What would that be like? Kuroo tried to think about the set up. If he could get Kenma to play a new game with him, then that meant he could keep Kenma in his life somehow whether he was rejected or not. But if he didn’t want to play…

“Do you know why Kenma stopped playing volleyball, Tetsurou?” Oikawa cut through his thoughts as he ran his fingers through Kuroo’s hair. The sensation was soothing and somehow kept him planted in the conversation.

“Yeah, duh, of course I do. Kenma doesn’t really like exerting himself, and playing at the college level would mean way more effort than high school.”

Akaashi nodded. “Logical conclusion, but you’re missing a key component.”

“Huh?”

“You, idiot,” Oikawa flicked his ear.

“Kenma didn’t voice it often, but during his third year, it was clear to see just how much he missed playing on the same court as you,” explained Akaashi.

“Yeah, but he could have tried out for the team, and then we could’ve been playing together again.”

“Maybe you should go ask him about it,” Oikawa nudged at Kuroo’s shoulder, though Kuroo made no attempt to roll off of his setter’s lap.

Kuroo turned his face to glare up at his roommate. “Ha ha, very funny, but I’m not going…”

“Come on, man,” Bo tapped the edge of the sofa with his foot, “just get it over with. It’s like a bandaid, you know? The sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can face that next step.”

“I can’t,” Kuroo told him.

“Kuroo -”

“I said I _can’t_ , Bo!” snapped Kuroo, sitting up so fast he gave himself a headrush and got smacked by Oikawa’s hand. “I just...can’t bring myself to do it. I want to talk with him and figure this out, but every time I open my phone to do so, I just lose all function in my hands. Honestly...I’ve been avoiding my phone all week.”

“That would explain the lack of shit posting you’ve been doing this week,” teased Oikawa. “Where’s your phone now?”

“My room...why?”

The click of one of the bedroom doors opening reminded Kuroo that they had been missing somebody. There was the soft but heavy padding of feet retreating as another door opened, closed, and then the footsteps returned in a crescendo until Iwaizumi came back into the living room. He marched over to the couch where Kuroo and Oikawa sat together and stopped just before the coffee table - out of arm’s reach. In his hand, there was a very familiar device.

Kuroo’s eyes widened, but as he lunged for the phone, Oikawa restrained him and pinned him against the couch.

Iwaizumi skillfully unlocked Kuroo’s cell phone, apparently having the pin memorized. He was either really that observant or Kuroo was just that predictable with his pin code - it was Kenma’s birthday. Scrolling through the recent messages, Iwa quickly came upon Kenma’s number and pressed the call button.

His breath felt knocked out his chest as his brain tried to reboot the current scenario. Iwaizumi Hajime never got involved with matters that didn’t concern him. Sure, he would give his honest opinion about certain situations, which could be taken for advice, but it was never his intention to interfere. For him to be the one to call Kenma on his behalf, Kuroo wasn’t sure to be mortified or astonished that Iwa valued Kuroo’s happiness - okay, maybe happiness was a bit imaginative, but this was still a display of caring for him, right?

They all stayed there with only the sounds of soft breathing to fill the empty space. Kuroo could feel the scream wanting to rip through his throat. Instead, he concentrated on breathing in and out as the soft ring could easily be heard from here.

Kenma wasn’t going to pick up. Everyone knew that Kenma absolutely despised talking on the phone, and if you were lucky enough to catch him, the call only lasted long enough to blurt out a “coming over” or “leaving now.” The longest conversation Kuroo ever had with his best friend was about a minute and a half, and it was because Kenma accidentally butt dialed him. So there was just _no way_ that Kozume Kenma was going to -

“Kuroo…?”

The quiet tone to Kenma’s voice sliced right through Kuroo’s chest. He felt something inside him break. His shoulders went slack against Oikawa’s weight, and his jaw fell in utter disbelief.

No way.

“Talk to him.” 

This wasn’t happening.

Iwaizumi’s voice broke through the palpable reticence before he thrusted the phone in Kuroo’s face. Whether he had directed the command at either Kenma or Kuroo, no one knew for sure, but Kuroo scrambled to take the phone into his hands. Once the phone was out of the way, Iwa rounded the coffee table and practically yanked Oikawa to his feet, pulling him out of the living room and towards their bedroom - the door slamming shut shortly after to indicate the demand for privacy at last. Okay, so maybe Iwa hadn’t been entirely selfless or caring

Bokuto gave a high pitched whistle from the armchair once the door was closed, and Akaashi simply sighed as he rolled his eyes.

Blinking, Kuroo was completely dumbfounded. It could have been hours or seconds, but suddenly the weight in his hand grew too much and regained his attention. Iwa had called Kenma on his behalf. Kenma had _answered_. And now Kuroo just...sat there. He wanted an out, but he also wanted to talk. Torn between the two, he looked back to the perfectly snug couple adjacent to him.

Kuroo looked to Bo first in hopes of that quick coverage, but it was Akaashi’s gunmetal gaze that shot through him. Akaashi didn’t need to say a single word to convey his message, which left Kuroo with no other choice. The flight response immediately died, and this was it.

Match point.

“Kuroo…?” Kenma’s soft voice whispered through the line again, bringing Kuroo back.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Kuroo brought the phone to his ear and croaked at his first attempt to speak before clearing his throat, “H-Hey.”

Nothing.

For a moment, Kuroo hoped that Kenma had finally hung up, and he could just go back to his previous pity party - though after this it would surely be the biggest yet because he obviously fucked up.

“Hey.”

And that was enough to set his heart sailing. Kuroo clenched his hand around the device tighter and managed to let slip what needed to be said, “We need to talk.”

There was another calculated pause.

“Come over.”

“Now?” blurted Kuroo.

“Now.”

It was a firm invitation with no room to excuse himself, but Kuroo had no intentions now to keep running. “O-Okay,” he cleared his throat again, “yeah, no yeah, I’ll, uh, I’ll be right over.”

There was a “hn” in confirmation, a click, and then static filled his ears as Kuroo had yet to put his phone down. He felt a kick against his couch cushion, knocking him from his daze, and looked over to see Bokuto’s manic grin. Kuroo just stared at him for a minute, slowly regaining the feeling in his entire body.

“Well~?” Bo sang, “What are you waiting for?”

“The feeling to return to my legs,” deadpanned Kuroo.

“C’mon, you really shouldn’t keep him waiting~”

Kuroo shrugged the comment off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What am I going to do…?”

“Go,” commanded Akaashi, holding his tea close to himself. He leaned back against Bokuto’s chest, making himself even more comfortable. “I’m sleeping here tonight.”

Bokuto cheered and squeezed his arms around Akaashi’s midsection, digging his chin into his boyfriend’s shoulder. But Akaashi’s eyes never left Kuroo’s as recognition set in. Suddenly, Kuroo was filled with this blooming affection and appreciation for him. He was allotted privacy to speak with Kenma - and hoping for no interruptions from the other two roommates.

Kuroo stood up, still feeling dead in his legs, but he needed to move. He needed to _leave_.

“Good luck!” Bo called as he passed by.

Kuroo made a point to stop in his bedroom before heading out. He quickly changed into a clean shirt and jeans, looking himself over in his mirror. It was the first time Kuroo really took in his appearance all week. The exhaustion was clear in his eyes, but other than that he seemed to hide everything else pretty well. He could easily explain away the tiredness he felt with excuses of practice and schoolwork, though he doubted Kenma would buy any of it.

As he stood there, taking himself in, Kuroo could hear the soft sounds of grunting and gasping breaths coming from the other side of his wall. The thing about this place - like many places - was that the apartment was not soundproof. In fact, they probably had the thinnest walls Kuroo had ever roomed with.

He smirked at his reflection before going over to the wall shared with Oikawa and Iwaizumi, knowing full well what they were doing on the other side. Kuroo gave a solid knock above his bed and laughed at the squeak from Oikawa.

“Spank him once for me as thanks!” Kuroo hollered.

There was a sharp _slap_ from the other side followed by a gruff, “Shittykawa.”

Kuroo cackled at that, shaking his head as he stepped away from the wall. He looked back at himself in the mirror one last time, taking a moment to let all of this sink in.

They were still at match point.

A rush of nervous excitement flooded his gut. It was the same feeling he got when he was down to his very last drop of adrenaline in a game. He could see the scoreboard out of the corner of his eye. His team was just as exhausted as he was, and yet, his will to not give up was still riding strong. Kuroo clung to that in desperation just to see everything through. He wanted to win. He wanted to see what it was like at the end, walking off the court with his head held high and absolute pride keeping him standing.

This was it.

All or nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to get back to weekly posting! Hope y'all are feeling that build up >.>
> 
> Thank you again for reading! I appreciate all the comments and kudos ;w;


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _There were plenty of reasons as to why Kuroo hadn’t reached out quite yet, and Kenma began to recite a mental checklist -_ Kuroo needed time, Kuroo didn’t know how to approach this, Kuroo had to focus on school, Kuroo was focusing on practice, Kuroo forgot how to use his phone _\- of those possible reasons in an attempt to dispel the oncoming mental beration. He could feel the prickling irritation at the back of his neck as he clenched and unclenched his hands over his keyboard._
> 
> Kuroo made a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I have caught up in the Haikyuu manga (ch. 373) and am just in a constant state of AHHHHHHHHHHHHH ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` ) With that said, please note that I will have to now change my tags to "cannon divergence" as I started this with the Nationals Arc as the last arc of the manga (*゜ω゜)ゞ
> 
> If you would like to scream about the new chapters with me, feel free to @ me on twitter! (I don't really use the twitter as it confuses me, but I peruse it for the memes LOL)

One week.

That was the decision he came to. After the whole brunch incident, Kenma had half a mind to go straight back to Kuroo’s apartment and confront him right then and there. But he refrained himself. Kuroo didn’t take to drastic changes very well - often times overthinking the situation and trapping himself in a downward mental spiral. It was the one thing Kenma could not really push him on, so this was what he came up with.

One week was plenty of time for Kuroo to overthink the entire thing and sort through what he truly wanted - feelings aside. If he didn’t come clean after a week, Kenma was going to put an end to this and try to repair what damage had been done.

Kenma had decided to put his focus into a side quest - the piling homework he had been putting off - so it wasn’t until Tuesday when a thought occurred to him: Kuroo wasn’t texting him. Even at the beginning of the semester when Kenma was putting space between them, Kuroo was still diligent in sending daily reminders or little positive messages. Now there was nothing.

That was odd and unnerving.

Shoyou made a point to hang around Kenma the remainder of Tuesday night, doing his best to concentrate on his homework, but he gave up instead and booted up one of Kenma’s many consoles. Kenma appreciated the familiar background noise of Shoyou easily dying on the lower stages, but nothing could really erase his growing knot of anxiety.

At some point on Wednesday, Kenma had lost his ability to focus on any of his lectures and found himself back at home. He sat on the couch and stared at the television, which remained off. That was where Keiji had found him after his last class later that night, forced Kenma to eat, and turned on a movie to sit with him in silence.

When Thursday hit, Kenma spent a good hour laying in bed and contemplated going to class. This actually felt normal. By the end of the week, Kenma’s spell slots were usually depleted and made it difficult to want to go to class, but he always received an ether - a scolding push or words of encouragement - from Kuroo that made him eventually get up and go.

But he had received nothing.

No text. 

Not a single word all week.

Kenma sat up then and glared at the wall, wanting to burn a hole in the weak plaster with his look alone. This was annoying. He hated being so easily swayed by his emotions. Reaching over, he grabbed his phone off his nightstand and immediately opened up the thread of messages between him and Kuroo. He eyed the last timestamp and directed his glare there instead.

He wanted to say something. Anything. If it got Kuroo’s attention, he was willing to do it, but as he stared at the timestamp, Kenma’s anger simmered down until he released a sigh. He had promised a week, even if Kuroo knew it or not.

Kenma didn’t want to be the one to force Kuroo into a decision. If he did, what would have been the point of waiting this long?

So he closed out of those messages and flipped to another familiar thread instead.

 

**To My Best Friend ٩(♡ε♡ )۶:**  
 _I hate you_  
[08:12]

 

The reply was almost instantaneous.

 

**From My Best Friend ٩(♡ε♡ )۶:**  
 _LIES!!_ (;｀O´)o  
 _You love me ♥♥♥  
Good morning btw~_ (=ↀωↀ=)✧  
[08:12]

 

Kenma rolled his eyes.

 

**From My Best Friend ٩(♡ε♡ )۶:**  
 _And hru this fine morning~?_ ( ˘ ³˘)♥  
[08:13]

 

Kenma knew he was opening a flood gate of obnoxious and irritating messages. He rarely ever texted him, publicly refusing to acknowledge the friendship, but when Kenma needed him most, he knew he could count on a response.

 

**To My Best Friend ٩(♡ε♡ )۶:**  
 _Never better._  
[08:13]

**From My Best Friend ٩(♡ε♡ )۶:**  
 _You really need to stop with all the lies, Ken-chan_ <(｀^´)>  
 _One day, you won’t be able to tell the truth_ ( •̀ω•́ )σ  
 _So, I’ll ask again  
How are you?_  
[08:14]

**To My Best Friend ٩(♡ε♡ )۶:**  
 _I don’t think I can wait a week_  
[08:14]

**From My Best Friend ٩(♡ε♡ )۶:**  
 _No shit.  
I stg btwn the 2 of you I’M abt to lose my mind  
Just fuck already, gdi_ ಠ▃ಠ  
[08:16]

 

Kenma sighed and shook his head. He had been ready to do that since he was, what, fifteen years old?

 

**To My Best Friend ٩(♡ε♡ )۶:**  
...  
[08:17]

**From My Best Friend ٩(♡ε♡ )۶:**  
(ﾟoﾟ〃)  
(•̀⌄•́)  
♡〜٩(^▿^)۶〜♡  
[08:19]

 

Kenma grimaced at his phone screen. Between Tooru and Kuroo, he wasn’t sure who was the worst with those excessive emojis. At the moment, he was betting Tooru.

He eventually went to class and proceeded through his usual routine, feeling a bit less on auto-pilot than the last few days. Kenma met up with Keiji and Koutarou for lunch with the latter as enthusiastic as ever, but it was nice to listen - he even chimed in with a few sentiments about the upcoming tournament that weekend. In the afternoon, he managed to get two papers done and half of his coding project completed - the other half being saved for his desktop back in his room. Kenma then met up with Shoyou and Tadashi for dinner between campuses where he found out they were going straight back to Tadashi’s to study with Tobio. Someone needed to make sure that the pair got _something_ done. Because of this, they didn’t linger too long after eating and parted ways at the station.

When Kenma got back to the apartment, he realized it was entirely vacant. Keiji’s door was closed with no light streaming underneath, so he was probably with Koutarou still, and Lev had barely been in the apartment all week. Kenma didn’t necessarily want to be alone, but he would admit that he could breathe a bit easier with an empty flat. He headed straight for his room, booted on his desktop, and went straight to work - ignoring the game notifications and messages from his frequent forums for once. Feeling uncharacteristically productive, Kenma got to work on finishing this project.

 

* * *

 

**[ 2 2 : 3 3 ]**

The time on his computer seemed accurate as it matched the exhaustion in his shoulders and the static in his vision. Kenma rubbed at his eyes, letting himself unfocus for the first time since sitting down...nearly three hours ago. Everyone swore he was going to need glasses one of these days, and maybe they had a point - though he wasn’t going to admit that too easily.

The apartment was still. There wasn’t a single sound save for the light hum of the heat coming from the vents. If Kenma concentrated hard enough, he might have heard the refrigerator vibrating down the hall. It was the kind of quiet that allowed his thoughts to sneak up on him. He could hear his own voice as it hissed in the back of his mind.

_Kuroo hasn’t reached out._

True. Doubt usually stemmed from at least one piece of factual evidence.

There were plenty of reasons as to why Kuroo hadn’t reached out quite yet, and Kenma began to recite a mental checklist - _Kuroo needed time, Kuroo didn’t know how to approach this, Kuroo had to focus on school, Kuroo was focusing on practice, Kuroo forgot how to use his phone_ \- of those possible reasons in an attempt to dispel the oncoming mental beration. He could feel the prickling irritation at the back of his neck as he clenched and unclenched his hands over his keyboard.

_Kuroo made a decision._

That was...possible. There wasn’t much evidence to back the claim up, but Kenma knew Kuroo well enough to consider the possibility. He could have done this subconsciously years ago or today. Kuroo was incredibly perceptive around others but not when it came to himself, which made him unpredictable at the worst possible times.

That knot in his gut tightened even further, making him feel cold all over.

_Kuroo didn’t choose you._

“Shut up,” Kenma whispered into the nothingness of his room, drawing his knees up to his chest. He could hear the voice purring just at the back of his mind.

_Why would he want you?_

“I said shut up.”

_You’re supposed to be his best friend - a confidant. He has given you his trust, and what did you do with it? You’ve used those secrets to manipulate him into being friends, and now you want more?_

_You’re selfish._

_You destroyed any possibility of him being truly happy with anyone else._

_You don’t deserve anything._  
You should just give up now.   
Cut your losses and accept the reality thatallofthiswasmadeupbecauseofyourincapacityto - 

The vibration against his desk resounded loudly and cut through his reviling, reeling him back in. 

Kenma wanted to scream. He wanted to throw everything in his reach and let it all out - everything he had kept bottled up for the last ten years. Emotions were stupid and messy and just got in the way of everything. They didn’t make any sense in the real world - in fictional worlds, emotions provided character motivation, but what sort of motivation did this give him in the real world? In fact, all of this wondering was demotivating and just overall...tiring.

Maybe a week was too generous...

Slowly unlocking his fingers from his hair, Kenma flexed his joints after realizing just how tight his grip had been, judging from the throbbing at his roots. He blinked dumbly at his phone, half expecting it to buzz again. When it didn’t, he picked it up and opened to his new message thread.

 

**From Hajime:**  
 _Are you home?_  
[22:40]

 

Kenma blinked at his inbox. There weren’t a lot of consistent messages between him and Hajime - going back and forth about meeting times or an occasional text directed at him by Tooru, which usually happened when Kenma did not feel like talking to Tooru through their own thread. Conversations with Hajime usually consisted with phone calls, despite Kenma’s absolute _loathing_ of speaking on the phone. Actually, Kenma never really ever “spoke” on the phone with Hajime’s calls and instead just listened to him rant about work or school or Tooru. Hajime’s voice was incredibly soothing to simply listen to - he was probably the only one who had ever kept Kenma on a call the longest and often ended when Tooru would interrupt in an attempt to keep Kenma on the line.

Seeing the message from Hajime told Kenma that something was up. He wasn’t entirely sure if that meant it involved Hajime himself at all, but there was something happening.

There was no energy left in him for a phone call, though, and Kenma had half a mind to just not reply. If he left that little “read” in the corner with no answer, Hajime would know that this was not the time for a call.

And yet, his innate curiosity would not leave this whatever-was-happening to simply go unnoticed. It wasn’t as if he was going to be expected to speak anyway. Hajime never demanded for Kenma to answer him, which was probably why Kenma had no qualms for picking up the phone for him. 

And Hajime always texted before calling.

 

**To Hajime:**  
 _Yes._  
[22:43]

 

Kenma took in a deep breath through his nose and stared at his phone. He prepared himself for this incoming call from Hajime, though he had no idea what it could be about. The knot in his gut wanted to tell him it was the obvious, but no, Kenma didn’t want to think about that. He tried to tell himself it had to be something completely different.

It just...had to be.

When his phone started to vibrate in his hand, Kenma jumped a little bit, despite knowing a call was going to happen. As his thumb slid the icon to accept the call, he nearly hung up instead. Hajime’s name wasn’t the one popping up on his screen.

It was Kuroo.

Was this really happening? Kuroo was finally reaching out to him for the first time all week, and that somehow restored one last spell slot. This was it - a little boost of energy to thrust him into this inevitable conversation. At the last possible ring, Kenma slid the answer icon across his screen and brought his phone up to his ear. 

“Kuroo…?” whispered Kenma as soon as the line clicked through. His voice sounded thin instead of steady, but he was happy it at least came out.

“Talk to him.”

That was Hajime’s voice, and for a moment, Kenma thought he imagined Kuroo’s picture popping up on his screen. Maybe it really was Hajime who had called him after all. That thought nearly caused Kenma to hang up immediately (again resorting to his default settings), but there was a shuffling sort of sound on the other side of the line. He quickly pulled his phone back to double check the name and number, and unless this was some cruel prank, the call really was coming in from Kuroo’s phone.

Kenma held his breath as he listened to the movements on the other end. He wasn’t entirely sure of what was happening, but clearly this hadn’t been Kuroo’s intention at all. When everything seemed to have died down on Kuroo’s end, all Kenma could focus on was the sound of Kuroo’s breathing - his shuddering breaths giving way to his own nervousness.

Kuroo rarely admitted aloud to ever being nervous, but Kenma knew that he was actually one to succumb to his old insecurities quite easily - perhaps more so than Kenma. However, Kuroo remained on the line, and Kenma listened as he tried to even out his breathing. He doubted Kuroo was entirely alone now, even after Hajime handed off the phone, so he suspected he was trying to piece himself back together.

“Kuroo…?” Kenma closed his eyes as he tried to call his attention. He wanted to hear his voice and know that this wasn’t some universal prank.

There was one last intake of breath before an airy, hesitant, “H-Hey,” cracked through the line. Kuroo’s voice was tight, but the knot in Kenma’s gut loosened by a fraction.

Alone in his room where he had been ready to throw his head through a wall only a minute ago, Kenma smiled. His shoulders began to relax while he sank back into his chair. He could still feel that low-lying hum of anxiety fluttering in his chest, but he was used to that. Kenma could handle this puttering in his heart over the tension ready to burst in his head.

“Hey,” replied Kenma, still smiling despite no one being able to see - thank god. Like hell he would let anyone witness his stupidly giddy expression right now.

It wasn’t the most intelligent conversation, but having Kuroo speaking into his ear had always made Kenma unravel. He avoided phone calls at all cost, but calls with Kuroo were especially calculated and kept to no more than an immediate answer to a question - took some time to train Kuroo to only ask his question and nothing more. Any longer than that and Kenma’s entire face would darken red, and his heart would probably combust in his chest.

Kuroo took in another deep breath, and this time when he spoke, his voice was firm with resolve - dipping into the same captain-like tone he used to use, “We need to talk.”

Finally.

Kenma closed his eyes and nodded, though that didn’t do any good. It wasn’t like they were Facetiming. He reopened his eyes and looked at the time on his computer screen. No one was home, and there was no way in hell Kenma could have this conversation over the phone.

“Come over.”

“Now?” blurted Kuroo, clearly not having expected that.

Kenma had to strengthen his own resolve too, “Now.”

“O-Okay,” he cleared his throat over the phone, “yeah, no yeah, I’ll, uh, I’ll be right over.”

With a quick “hn,” Kenma ended the call and tossed his phone towards his bed, hearing the soft _thunk_ as it hit his mattress. He leaned forward and rested his head on his desk, squeezing his eyes shut until he saw little white dots through the pitch black. 

So this was finally happening.

He had been mentally prepared to confront Kuroo at the end of the week. He was going to come clean and draw a line in the sand of their friendship - a take-it-now or never-pursue-it kind of deal. A week had _felt_ long enough, even having felt too long just earlier that day, but now that everything was in motion, Kenma didn’t nearly feel as prepared anymore. A week wasn’t enough, but if he had even a month or a year, he guessed it would have had the same outcome.

Kenma pulled himself back and took in a deep breath through his nose before releasing an airy exhale. It was going to take Kuroo about a half hour to get to the apartment, give or take train departures. He could probably take that time to shut himself down and reboot - a good twenty minutes or so - or…

He decided to get up, using his legs for the first time in three hours, and headed out of his room. Kenma let his feet take him to the living room where he plopped down onto the couch and curled up on the cushions. 

There needed to be a plan of action. Before every big boss battle, the player needed to be prepared with the latest strategy and best weapons. Kenma had neither of those at the moment. He also didn’t have a save point to return to, making this battle his most important yet because everything was on the line. There were no other players this time around to bail him out if his life points dropped significantly. No, this was just him and Kuroo: face to face.

First and foremost, he needed a strategy. It didn’t have to be anything intricate or fancy - after all, they were supposed to be straightforward and hash this out - but he did need a plan of what he was going to say. How was he going to approach the conversation? What points were he going to bring up? 

The more Kenma thought about all of that, the less he could consider this conversation to be simple. Perhaps he could start off asking -

_Click._

Kenma’s entire being stilled and his thoughts halted as he listened to the front lock turning over. He heard the door gruff open, and his heart stopped.

That couldn’t possibly be Kuroo. There wasn’t a clock within distance, so surely that wasn’t Kuroo - he technically had a key, so it wasn’t an impossible conclusion. But it was ridiculous. Kenma shot up on the couch, poking his head up to view the entryway where they deposited their shoes, to see the familiar red headed mess of hair that was Hinata Shoyou.

Shoyou slipped off his shoes, put his messenger bag down, and padded over to their itty bitty kitchen in search of something.

This was horrible. Absolutely horrendous timing. Kuroo was on his way over, and Kenma had expected to have the apartment to himself for a bit longer. 

“You have to leave.”

“AH!” Shoyou squealed, quickly popping his head through the galley window of their kitchen to look out into the living room. His eyes were wide and there was already a faint milk mustache on his upper lip. “Kenma...how long have you been there?”

Kenma simply shook his head before repeating, “You have to leave.”

“Wait...why?” There was a bit of shuffling in the kitchen before Shoyou came out into the living room and sat himself down beside his roommate. “Where am I going?”

“I need the apartment, Shoyou,” he tried to speak around a panicked lump in his throat.

Shoyou blinked, looking around the emptiness of their flat. “You...need the _whole_ apartment? By yourself?”

“Yes.”

He made an unintelligible noise, sputtering, before cocking his head and furrowing his brows together, “ _Why?_ ”

Kenma brought his knees up to his chest and rubbed at his temples, applying slight pressure to alleviate a growing headache. He knew he was asking for a lot, kicking his friend out of their apartment. “Because Kuroo is on his way over.”

That wiped the confusion right off of Shoyou’s face. His eyes widened and his jaw unhinged, going slack. “Are...Are you - did you guys talk?”

Kenma shrugged.

“Kenma...did you guys talk?”

“We’re going to when he gets here.”

“Oh,” Shoyou blinked then gasped, “ _oh._ Got it! Yes! Okay!”

Kenma looked to him, resting his head on his knees, and raised an eyebrow at Shoyou’s outburst. Shoyou didn’t know the meaning of discretion. He watched as the energetic decoy flew to his feet and nervously shook out his hair.

“Right! I, uh, left something over at Kageyama’s,” Shoyou laughed awkwardly, “so I should, um, probably go get that…!”

Kenma hummed and observed Shoyou’s erratic behavior spike as he made his way around the couch to the entryway. Seeing someone else act as panicked as he felt made Kenma somewhat better, taking solace that he wasn’t the only one caught up in what was happening. “Shouldn’t you take your backpack with you?”

“Huh?” Shoyou looked over to his messenger bag, “oh! Yeah!” He quickly grabbed it, strapped it over his chest, and spotted Kenma looking at him from over the back of the couch again. “Alright, so, I guess I’ll go back to Kageyama’s and, uh, study?”

Resting his head on the cushions of their couch, Kenma cracked a tiny smile in Shoyou’s direction. He was thankful to have such a good friend. “Okay,” he nodded, “and Shoyou?”

“Hm?” He stopped and looked back with his hand on the doorknob.

“Thank you.”

Shoyou immediately flashed a grin in return, “Good luck!”

And with that, Kenma was alone once again. The silence engulfed everything inside the apartment, even their radiating refrigerator. The _ping_ from the elevator at the end of the hallway sounded, knowing that was Shoyou on his way out of the building and leaving Kenma to count down his remaining minutes.

So back to the battle strategy.

It wasn’t much of a strategy at this point. The only thing he needed to figure out was who was talking first. Kenma wanted to leave everything out in the open, not wanting to hold back all these years of emotions just so that Kuroo knew exactly what was going on. Because of this, he wanted to speak first and actually be heard - though Kuroo was never one to dismiss Kenma’s words. He was tired of all this waiting and the “what ifs,” but he also wanted to know what Kuroo had been considering for the past five days. What sort of conclusions did he come to? What did he want from Kenma? And if Kenma spoke first, that could potentially alter Kuroo’s opinion...and the whole reason Kenma hadn’t said anything in the first place would possibly come true.

He never wanted Kuroo to feel forced into a relationship.

Kenma bit at his bottom lip as he thought of different strategies and approaches to the conversation. He thought of the weapons he had at his disposal and wondered what sort of effects they held - if they would even work against someone like Kuroo. A direct approach wasn’t exactly his forte… 

He needed to collect his thoughts as he was running out of time. Kenma didn’t want any cracks in his armor before Kuroo even swung back. He picked himself up from the couch and willed his feet towards the kitchen to make tea - a habit he developed thanks to Keiji. He went on autopilot as he prepared the kettle.

Now he waited.

Kenma was normally a patient person, willing to let things play out and analyzing every possible consequence; however, time was getting the better of him. He was clearly being tested by the universe, and he wasn’t having any of it. With each second that passed by, he could feel something churning up his insides.

He didn’t know why, but Kenma found himself standing in front of his main entrance. He looked around at the shoe rack before bringing his eyes up to stare at the front door. Waiting for water to boil was one thing - scientifically, he only had to wait a couple of minutes - whereas waiting for someone to show up was complete uncertainty. And yet…

Kenma pressed himself up against the door and peered through the peephole. He fully expected to see the same dingy hallway as he usually did with its tack stained carpet, peeling wallpaper walls, and questionable lighting in their section of the building. Instead, all of that space was blocked out by Kuroo's face standing at his door.

His childhood best friend never once waited at a closed door. He always proudly made an entrance and always declared something, no matter how ridiculous the statement. Kenma had found the quirk to be annoying at times - why couldn’t he just knock or use the door like a normal person? - but now seeing his hesitation only bothered him further.

Kuroo’s face was flushed with his cheeks and nose painted red from the biting wind outside. He seemed out of breath as well, his shoulders moving underneath his jacket as his chest puffed in and out. Did he run here from the station? It would explain how quickly he got here...and now that he was here -

He was out of time.

_“I’ve never been good with words, you know.”_

Kenma could hear Yuu’s voice in his head. He felt that same sentiment, having kept quiet about his feelings for far too long. 

_“I just needed to tell him exactly how I felt.”_

His fingers didn’t tremble as he gripped the handle.

_“So I did.”_

Kenma threw open the door and looked up at him. Kuroo blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting him to have been there. For one brief moment, they took each other in. Kuroo’s mouth hung open with words clearly on the tip of his tongue. He looked conflicted still, not knowing where or how to start, but Kenma knew. He had known exactly what he was going to do the moment he opened that door and saw Kuroo.

“Kenma, I -”

Grabbing the lapels of Kuroo’s leather jacket, he pulled him down and cut his words off at the source. Kuroo’s lips were softer than Kenma had expected them to be. Kuroo gasped against his lips before his brain seemed to work out the situation, and when Kuroo relaxed against him, Kenma could feel his heart hammer in his chest. He felt every little shift in Kuroo’s body as they tried to better fit each other - Kuroo’s head tilting at an angle so their noses didn’t bump together, Kuroo taking a step forward to even out the distance and not strain their necks, and Kuroo’s hands finding purchase in Kenma’s hair.

Kenma kissed him like his life depended on it - like the very air he needed to survive only existed within Kuroo’s lungs. He wanted to convey just how much he had waited for this moment, doing so through desperate, breathless kisses. There was no strategy, no weapons, to rely on, leaving him vulnerable to whatever lay beyond this moment.

And then Kuroo’s hand moved to the back of Kenma’s neck, steadying his head. Kuroo’s tongue ran along Kenma’s bottom lip and prompted him to open up. Kenma could feel Kuroo lick his way into Kenma’s mouth, tongues pressing and tangling together. He felt the way Kuroo started to open him up - his own sense of desperation to explore and _know_ a new part of Kenma surging him forward. 

Kenma’s grip on Kuroo’s jacket tightened, vaguely aware of his own surprised noise, as he took a step back. His brain only had a few remaining wires connected, and they all screamed at him to move back inside and away from the open hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was getting very out of hand (I had outlined it to be much longer) so I'm dividing it here (￣◇￣;)
> 
> SO BUCKLE UP FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER!
> 
> But seriously, thank you all for being so patient and torturing yourselves with my slow working ass >.> I wanted to share both sides of this story, and y'all are here along for the ride - you're amazing ;w; Anyways! Thought I'd give y'all _something_ to tide you over until my next update~ I should also be updating an end chapter count soon as well, so y'all will be able to know how many more chapters we have left!
> 
> Thank you again for all of the kudos and comments left on this fic! I love seeing your feedback even if I am behind in my replies (；☉_☉)


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He got straight to the point.
> 
> Question and Answer. It was a game as old as time and was one of the few games played where there was no real winner or loser. The rules were simple: ask a question, get an answer; receive a question, give an answer. The duration of the game lasted until both parties seemed satisfied with what they got or put on pause until the next time it was needed. 
> 
> It was a game of honesty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays~! （○゜ε＾○）

His back hit the door, knocking the air from his already aching lungs. After running a few blocks from his apartment to the train station and then from that station to Kenma’s, he hadn’t been able to catch his breath quite yet.

He felt himself being pulled back down by the grip on his jacket, meeting with anxiously chapped lips. It wasn’t a graceful reunion as teeth clacked together, but in that brief 0.5 seconds apart, he had never felt so utterly raw in his entire life. He welcomed the messy kiss, bottled up desperation of wanting to be _closer, closer, closer_ urging every slide of his tongue against his. He tried to memorize every aspect of Kenma’s mouth to the best his brain could even process - after all, the fact he was kissing Kenma in the first place nearly short circuited him.

Actually, scratch that.

_Kenma_ was kissing _him_.

Kuroo shuddered as Kenma tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth, causing him to pull away. Their eyes finally met, and Kenma’s hooded gaze was all it took to demolish every synapse of reasonable logic he had left. He surged forward, letting his body be controlled by pent up desires and unexplored curiosity.

Kenma’s face was soft - a trait he seemed to have never outgrown - and smooth, and Kuroo had always appreciated that, stealing opportunities to brush crumbs from Kenma’s cheeks or move strands of hair out of the way just to touch him. Yet despite all of that tenderness, Kuroo could feel the hard line of Kenma’s jaw as he trailed his way to the more sensitive point of his throat. He felt Kenma’s pulse jump from the heat of his tongue and felt his fingers twist a bit more in his shirt. It was a subtle reaction that still caught Kuroo's attention like everything else about Kenma.

Kuroo continued to kiss every inch of him he could find that wasn't hidden under his same old sweatshirt (one of Kuroo's old sweatshirts he was vaguely sure of), and Kenma let him without so much as batting an eye. His mind reeled as he took in everything that he could from the way Kenma’s voice caught in the back of his throat - causing his moans to come out as whimpering mewls - to the slight tremors that drove him to press up against Kuroo for stability. Kuroo was drawn back to Kenma’s lips, stealing another appreciative hum from his best friend.

_Best friend_.

That’s right. Kenma was his best friend, but that still didn’t sound meaningful enough. Not now at least. There just weren’t enough words to describe how much Kenma meant to him - the thought of anyone else taking that place in Kuroo’s heart caused him to hold Kenma a little tighter in his arms. Deep down, he had always known he wouldn’t be able to give Kenma up. Not for money or love or volleyball. Nothing. Kuroo had just been an idiot for taking this long to realize.

Yeah, he could tell he was already fucked.

“Kenma,” whispered Kuroo, his name sounding as a plea between breaths. What he was asking for...he wasn’t sure.

A high pitched whistle startled them both enough to cause them to separate. A bit dazed, Kuroo watched as Kenma slowly backed away and shuffled into the small kitchen just off to the side.

Kuroo leaned back against the front door as he took a moment for himself. Everything had just escalated - the phone call, the train ride, the kiss. He felt dizzy like the world had just been ripped up from under his feet, and he was now staring at an abyss in its place, unknown and inviting. 

His mind went back to that kiss. Kuroo had desperately tried to piece together what he wanted to tell Kenma as he ran all over Shinjuku; however, all of the apologies and what he wanted to say died the moment he had stopped outside of Kenma’s apartment. He had just stood there with a million and one things instantly evaporating, leaving him unprepared.

But Kenma wasn’t like him. Kuroo had recognized that distinct set to his eyes the moment that door flew open. His mind had been made up - determination willing him forward to take that first step. How long had he’d been ready?

Was he even ready?

“Fuck,” Kuroo hissed at himself, toeing off his shoes and shrugging out of his jacket. He willed his body to move from the door to investigate where Kenma had run off to.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to go far. As Kuroo stepped up into the hallway, Kenma had stepped out of the small kitchenette and knocked into him. They crashed down together with Kuroo cushioning the blow and instinctively pulling Kenma against his chest.

“Kuroo…”

His eyes opened at the sound of his name to see Kenma positioned over top of him, his familiar disgruntled scowl making Kuroo’s chest feel tight. Fuck, he was cute with his narrowed eyes and scrunched nose. It was a look he’d been given over a thousand times, but now he saw underneath it. 

Kuroo reached up and let his fingertips brush against Kenma’s cheek. Yeah, he was definitely still soft. He traced slow circles just under Kenma’s cheekbone, wiping the scowl off his face and attracting attentive eyes instead. Kuroo felt content in just these small touches while Kenma leaned into the gentle caress, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath through his nose.

They still needed to talk. As much as Kuroo didn’t want to disrupt whatever was going on right now, his rebooted logic was barely able to tell him that much.

“Kenma, we should -”

Kenma placed both hands on either side of Kuroo’s face and went back in for another taste. His lips were much more precise this time. Kuroo gave in again and relaxed beneath Kenma’s weight, feeling the smaller man’s hidden strength as he was caged in by firm thighs. He tangled his fingers through Kenma’s hair while his other hand travelled along the solid muscle against his hip, hooking into the cleft behind his knee - of all the times Kenma had to be wearing sweatpants, _now_ had to be the worst.

Despite it, though, Kenma further pressed down on him - chest to chest. Kenma never ceased his complaints of being cold, even going as far as stealing Kuroo’s hoodies, and yet right now he radiated so much warmth that Kuroo felt sweat prickle at the back of his neck. Feeling the heat of Kenma’s body on top of him, Kuroo moved his hand from Kenma’s hair, down his back, and stopped where his sweatshirt was starting to ride up. Pressing his fingers to the newly exposed skin, he felt Kenma’s full body shudder, causing a heat of his own to pool low in his stomach.

Kenma slowly pulled back, panting, and adjusted his weight more comfortably on Kuroo’s hips. He had brought his hands down to rest on Kuroo’s chest, letting his thumbs idly brush circles on Kuroo’s pecs through his fitted t-shirt. His hair fell around his face, and Kuroo couldn’t hold back his urge to tuck the strands behind his ear. Kenma’s cheeks were flushed a light pink and his eyes remained carefully trained on every movement Kuroo made.

There was an unspoken tension in the air.

Kuroo left his hands on Kenma’s hips, mimicking the same haggard breathing. He ran his tongue over his swollen bottom lip and smirked. Kenma had been rather thorough in claiming his mouth, but Kuroo wasn’t complaining. Far from it. He shivered again as he felt Kenma’s thumb brush against his pert nipple, feeling betrayed by the thin material of his t-shirt. A part of his brain wasn’t sure if the action was deliberate or if it was due to the settling anxiety of their silence.

It was probably both.

“Not that I didn’t have the same idea in mind,” Kuroo croaked, once again adjusting underneath Kenma’s weight, “but...what the hell was that?”

Kenma cocked an eyebrow and kept his face neutral, though the pink tinge to his cheeks remained. “Really?” He deadpanned. “That wasn’t clear enough?”

As if to make his point, Kenma slowly rocked his hips, grinding back against Kuroo’s growing arousal trapped in tight denim. Kuroo dug his fingers into Kenma’s hips to get him to stop because shit that felt good. Too good. Normally, that would not have been a problem, but unfortunately that little voice was going off in Kuroo’s head and trying to keep his mind focused on the situation and not _that_ situation.

“Maybe this will be clearer,” Kenma purred, running his hands down Kuroo’s abdomen and pushing his shirt up. He dipped down and pressed his lips against Kuroo’s bare skin, trailing kisses wherever he could reach. His thumbs pressed down at Kuroo’s waist, pulling a needy whine from his chest.

_Fuck_ , Kuroo couldn’t help but to react, biting back a moan as Kenma’s tongue swept its way up his stomach. Thank god he wasn’t ticklish. Instead, however, his hips jerked up to press into Kenma’s ass - groaning from the friction against his cock, though it wasn’t nearly what he wanted.

Kuroo had come to the conclusion that Kenma was cruel. He, _fuck_ , he knew just as well as Kuroo did that they needed to talk about all of this. Instead of playing fair, Kenma was fucking doing _this_ \- not that it wasn’t like a fantasy come true or anything, Kuroo just didn’t want to stop. But they needed to have that conversation before, _shit_ , before they went any further.

When did he stop thinking with his dick?

“K-Kenma,” Kuroo panted, feeling another bite being placed just below his ribs. He was met with a heady gaze - Kenma’s eyes were more black than gold. “W-We should…talk.”

Kenma simply hummed as he licked the forming bitemark, seeming to ponder Kuroo’s suggestion. Another shiver made its way up as he watched Kenma slowly sit back up. “Alright,” he agreed, letting his weight press down on Kuroo’s hips - as if _that_ wasn’t distracting or anything.

Despite taking in a deep breath through his nose, his mind could only focus on what sat on top of him. This wasn’t going to work.

“Couch.”

Flicking an eyebrow up, Kenma didn’t need to follow Kuroo’s directed finger to know where his own sofa was. However, he played along and carefully got up from the floor, quietly walking over to his favorite corner on the couch.

Kuroo gave a sigh of relief, taking a moment to calm himself down before following after Kenma. He had never been that riled up from just a little kissing, but here he was - if he came out of this alive, Kuroo suspected he would owe his first born as compensation or something close.

As he took his place on the opposite end of the couch, Kuroo settled in, stretching out his legs and finding comfort in the cushions rather than the hardwood floors, and saw how quickly Kenma’s mood had changed. The latter had taken up the throw blanket, cocooning himself as a human burrito, and kept his bundle plastered in the corner of the sofa. He was trying to feign boredom or maybe annoyance, but Kuroo could see the onset panic shimmering in his eyes - the sight causing a pang of guilt to flare and spread through his chest.

Suppressing the urge (built up by years of practice) to pull his best friend into his arms, Kuroo shifted slightly and ran a hand through his hair instead. He interrupted everything for this conversation - understood just how important it was - and yet, the words still wouldn’t come. He knew he was responsible for starting, and Kenma wasn’t going to say a single word until he did.

“I’m an idiot.”

Kenma didn’t react other than the faintest twitch to his brow.

“The biggest idiot,” Kuroo continued, taking that as his cue, “and I’m...sorry.” Kenma blinked at the apology, surprise temporarily taking over the alarm in his eyes - not even Kuroo expected that. “I’m sorry you had to wait so long for someone like me…”

“Someone like me,” repeated Kenma. The words would have been missed had it not been just the two of them. “Really, Kuroo? You _are_ an idiot,” he scoffed, though there was a tug at the corner of his mouth, threatening on the verge of a smile.

Kuroo’s skin prickled out of...shame? Irritation? Self-loathing? Affection for being graced by one of Kenma’s half smirks? Probably a combination of all the above. He knew how to put on a show in front of others and make believe that nothing was wrong or that nothing bothered him, but that wasn’t entirely true. Kuroo had his own set of insecurities just like anyone else, and the tremendous wave of regret he’d been feeling all week was finally surfacing.

Kenma stuck his foot out from the safety of his blanket burrito and glared at him, kicking him, “Stop that.”

Kuroo frowned, “But Kenma -”

“No,” was his quick reply. “You weren’t the only idiot, Kuroo. I could have said or done something sooner,” Kenma sighed, lightly tapping his foot against him, “but none of that really matters. Why get hung up on something we can’t change?”

He nodded, agreeing with the rhetoric. Unless either of them found a way to reasonably time travel - because both of them had had extensive debates on the theories of time traveling - nothing could be done at this point, and Kuroo was positive that if he apologized for one more thing, he was going to get smacked for real.

They sat together in silence for a little bit longer, the tapping of feet against his calf keeping Kuroo’s attention. He thought of all the times they’d spent together like this - wrapped up in the comfort of each other’s presence where words didn’t even have to be exchanged. It had been like that between them since…

“How long?” 

There wasn’t a need to elaborate on his question. It seemed Kenma had been waiting for it all night. “I don’t know...Long enough,” he shrugged, the hood of his blanket falling down to his shoulders.

“Kenma…”

“My turn,” Kenma shook his head and retracted his feet to his end of the couch, leaving Kuroo to feel alone. “What are you scared of?”

He got straight to the point.

Question and Answer. It was a game as old as time and was one of the few games played where there was no real winner or loser. The rules were simple: ask a question, get an answer; receive a question, give an answer. The duration of the game lasted until both parties seemed satisfied with what they got or put on pause until the next time it was needed. 

It was a game of honesty.

Had anyone else asked that question, Kuroo would have responded with a childish answer like “spiders” or “the dark,” but this was supposed to be serious. He had always been open about everything with Kenma - okay, maybe tricking him here and there to eat vegetables or to sleep at decent times wasn’t exactly being “honest” but they were necessary lies in the end. This time was no different, except for the fact that he wasn’t quite sure how to answer this particular question.

Kuroo furrowed his brows together, “I’m...not really sure. Everything?”

That seemed like a reasonable answer. Kuroo wasn’t going to deny that he was afraid of...this. It was new and uncharted territory for him - relationships could get complicated and messy real quick as he’d seen with so many of his friends. He could easily preach about adaptability and its benefits from a scientific standpoint, but when it came to enacting change with himself - big, life-altering change - he was hesitant. Kuroo didn’t want to lose what he already had.

“You.” 

“Me?” Kenma tilted his head in interest.

“Well, and me,” Kuroo scrunched his brows as he placed the pieces together, “Us. I’m scared of...us.” He looked to Kenma as he inched a little closer. 

“Why?” Kenma’s voice came out softer, rounding out the edge in his tone. “What do you think is going to happen between us, Kuroo?”

Plenty of things could happen. Life was unpredictable in what it threw at you, and no matter how hard you try, some things would just always remain impossible to reverse. 

Kuroo reached out and touched Kenma’s cheek, letting his thumb brush below the bone to caress the softest part of his skin. “I just,” his voice came out lower than intended, feeling constricted as he voiced his biggest fear, “I can’t lose you, Kitten.”

Placing his hand over Kuroo’s, Kenma closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, sighing. When he opened his eyes again, they held all the strength Kuroo was familiar with. Since the beginning, Kenma had always been Kuroo’s pillar for reassurance just as much as he’d been for Kenma. They balanced each other and encouraged one another to always keep moving, even when it felt as if everything else was getting in their way. In those eyes, Kuroo knew what he wanted - what he’d always wanted.

Kenma must have seen something similar reflected in Kuroo’s expression because he matched his resolve and moved closer, weaving their legs together. He invaded Kuroo’s personal space, drawn close by whatever magnetic force that kept them from being apart for too long. Kuroo continued to gently caress Kenma’s face even as their noses bumped together and felt the air between them steadily grow warmer.

“Idiot,” the flush returned to Kenma’s cheeks, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Kuroo smiled, “You’re right...I am such an idiot,” he didn’t have to move much to kiss the corner of Kenma’s mouth, “but I’m _your_ idiot.”

And that was the end.

The end of their conversation at least. In that moment, they both broke and came crashing together, deciding what needed to be said had been said. Kuroo had beaten him to the kiss this time and pressed Kenma onto his back, having the better angle to corner him against the cushions. His hand moved to Kenma’s hip, gripping onto the blanket still stuck around his waist - that was the first thing that needed to be disposed of. Kuroo yanked on the twisted throw blanket, once then twice, and finally managed to unfurl Kenma from his plush burrito. 

Now freed, Kenma eagerly hooked a leg just under Kuroo’s ass, bringing him closer. Kenma was a lot more assertive than Kuroo would have initially thought. He had never put much energy into anything that usually involved strenuous activity like running or volleyball, so this was genuinely a surprise. Kuroo felt Kenma lazily cant his hips upwards as his hand snuck underneath Kuroo’s shirt, fingers splaying across his lower back which caused him to tremble beneath the touch.

Practically purring in his chest, Kuroo matched the steady thrust below him. He felt Kenma adjust under the pressure, arching up to press chest to chest, and dug his dull nails into Kuroo’s back. Kenma was clearly getting more and more aroused, eagerly seeking out that desirable friction from Kuroo’s own jeans.

How often had he thought about this situation? _Fuck_ \- for as long as he could remember, Kuroo had been using Kenma’s image to get off and indulged in his wildest fantasies. He blamed it on Kenma being a familiar and memorable face - no matter who he was fooling around with at the time. Now thinking back on it, Oikawa was right (he would never admit that, not in a million years). 

No one just used their best friend for fap material unless it meant something.

“T-Tetsurou,” it was soft and desperate and whiny, but hearing his name - his given name - whispered by Kenma was enough to spark clarity. 

It was the first time in their entire friendship that Kenma had ever addressed him by that name.

Kuroo immediately jerked his head back, eyes flying wide, and felt an involuntary tremor rip through him. He felt like he’d been electrocuted and remained paralyzed to gawk at the sight in front of him.

Kenma looked...wrecked. His hair was wildly mussed and stuck out at all ends against the cushions. His cheeks were flushed pink with reddened lips to match, and those eyes were on him, observantly taking in every second that passed by despite the obvious haze that seeped through. They were clouded over but far from giving up - that same earlier determination locked in place before his fingers twisted at the end of Kuroo’s shirt.

“It’s okay,” Kenma’s voice came out raspy, dry but clear despite the pounding in his ears, “I want you, Tetsurou.”

Again, the same involuntary tremble coursed through him, rendering himself in Kenma's mercy. " _Oh fuck_ ,” hissed Kuroo, rolling his hips as he felt Kenma bring his knee up between his legs. He could barely handle the strain in his jeans. “Y-Yeah, no, me too.”

Lifting an eyebrow, Kenma curiously rubbed his knee against Kuroo’s cock again. Kuroo groaned and grinded down, chasing that much needed pleasure, but it wasn’t quite enough. His body screamed _more, more, more_ as his hips moved desperately to chase what he wanted. Kuroo should have been more embarrassed - should have been more aware of his selfishness - but it felt too frustratingly good.

And then Kenma’s knee dropped, causing Kuroo’s hips to stutter and nearly to fall on top of him. 

Kuroo blinked, dumbfounded at the lost sensation, and caught Kenma’s eyes again. _Shit_ , there was that feeling of shame finally catching up to him. 

“Is that really all it takes?” Kenma asked him.

Kuroo made a face at him, feeling the comment jab him in his pride. Getting so worked up like that...Damn, was he back in high school? A little bit longer and Kenma’s leg would have been more than enough to send him over the edge.

“I don’t mind,” he told him, “if that’s what you like.”

“Huh?”

“If that’s what you wanted, I’m okay with whatever…”

Kuroo blinked once more, momentarily speechless before huffing out a laugh, “W-What? No...I, uh, I just got carried away.”

Kenma hummed in acknowledgement, his fingers idly twisting into Kuroo’s shirt even more. His eyes fell to Kuroo’s mouth, biting his own lip and pondering an idea. There was a question there in the way he liked to silently communicate. 

“Let me make it up to you,” he promised, pinching Kenma’s chin and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. 

Tugging at his hoodie, Kuroo managed to make Kenma sit up and easily lifted the oversized garment above his head, tossing it aside. Kenma wore a rather thin t-shirt, and it was stuck to his back - already raised enough to see a peek of pale skin. With his shirt next, Kenma had already hooked his own fingers at the bottom and quickly stripped himself. Kuroo took his time by letting his hands explore his exposed skin, tracing the planes of his chest and shoulders along the way. It was the first time he got to appreciate what Kenma looked like under all that baggy clothing - not that he had never seen him undressed before - and Kuroo stared unabashedly now.

_Beautiful_. 

It was a simple word, overused by everyone but perfectly surmisable for this moment. Kenma had a hidden beauty, which most never saw or understood. He was like a thermal image, capturing Kuroo’s attention with every little movement - every shift and flex and breath created beneath his fingertips. More pink blossomed across his chest, spreading up to his neck, as the prolonged exposure easily embarrassed him. Dangerously beautiful.

Kuroo pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses across Kenma’s collarbone, eliciting goosebumps to flare all down his arms. He carefully trailed his hands down to rest at his waist - the muscles reacting under the heat and pressure of Kuroo’s fingertips. Kenma gasped at a particularly sensitive bite to his neck, sending his hands directly to Kuroo’s hair and _pulling_. A moan escaped reflexively, his body tensing up from the hard yank at his roots.

Taking advantage of his position, Kenma gave another hard pull in Kuroo’s hair, guiding his head back to look up at him. There was a brief glint in his eyes, relishing in this discovery, and somehow Kuroo knew he was screwed.

“Off,” Kenma demanded, hooking a finger in the collar of his shirt.

Obediently, he did as he was told and practically ripped the t-shirt over his head. The next thing he knew, two firm hands were pushing against his shoulders, and it was his turn to fall back onto the cushions. Kenma’s earlier assertiveness returned as he pinned Kuroo down by his shoulders.

Kenma bowed over, pressing his weight down, and captured Kuroo's lips briefly to keep him distracted as his hands explored Kuroo's body. His fingers traced from his throat down to his chest, gripping Kuroo's pectorals. Kenma's thumb circled his nipple, and the sudden attention flared the heat pooling in his stomach. 

Kuroo gasped, tilting his head away as Kenma played with his nipples. Wherever Kenma touched along his bare skin - nose nuzzling under his jaw, deft fingers caressing his sternum - sent chills all over his body. Being under such thorough scrutiny, Kuroo knew he wouldn't be useful for much longer.

And _he_ was supposed to be taking care of _Kenma_.

“Can I…?” Kuroo's voice came out a lot lower, rough as he tapped his fingers against the waistband of Kenma’s sweatpants.

Lifting his head and sitting back, Kenma took in his work - the budding marks and flushed reaction. His eyes were glossed over, proud of riling up Kuroo as much as he'd done to him, and satisfied enough to nod his consent.

Kuroo dipped his hand beneath the worn cotton fabric of Kenma’s sweatpants and his underwear, grasping his erection. His fingers lightly trailed from base to tip of Kenma’s cock, feeling the bead of precum budding at the head. As he felt the weight of him in his hand, Kuroo could hear the short exhale of breath above followed by shifting hips. Kuroo wrapped his fingers around the shaft and smeared precum over the head with his thumb, slowly dragging his hand up and down to coat the rest of his dick. 

It wasn’t going to be enough, though, if they kept this up. His thought process was just clear enough to know they would need something - lube or lotion - _anything_ , and the idea of having something more than even this made his own cock twitch. 

“K-Kuroo,” moaned Kenma, digging his nails into Kuroo’s shoulders.

“ _Fuck_ , Kenma, you sound so good,” he squeezed a bit of pressure at the base of Kenma’s cock to draw another moan, wanting to hear his voice even more. 

Kenma whimpered and his arms shook as he tried to keep himself up now. “ _Tetsurou_ , please…”

This was too good to be true like a fantasy come to life. Kenma was hunched over him, begging for _his_ name, as he took pleasure in unraveling him. Every sound was cherished and saved away for later. Kuroo wanted more too - wanted to hear his name tumble from Kenma’s lips over and over and over again until his voice ran hoarse.

As expected, Kenma’s arms couldn’t hold out any longer, feeling them wobble while pleasure and easy fatigue took over. Kuroo pulled back for just a moment, releasing his hold on him, as he flipped their positions once more to get a better angle, tugging at Kenma’s sweatpants before stripping them off altogether. He trailed kisses from Kenma’s knee and up his inner thigh, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his briefs and looking to meet his eyes.

“Don’t...stop,” rasped Kenma, insisting to continue by wiggling his hips.

Kuroo obeyed and proceeded to strip off the last piece of clothing, freeing Kenma’s erect cock from the tight, wet fabric. He bent back down to finish his line of kisses, nipping along the more tender flesh of his thighs and leaving feather light touches at his hips. His hand returned to grasp the base of Kenma’s dick, causing him to instinctively buck his hips up into Kuroo’s hand. Kuroo bit back a smile but purred despite it all because this was all for him.

He gave a few lazy pumps before letting the flat of his tongue press along the underside of his shaft, matching with each stroke and savoring the first taste - salty and bitter as anticipated, and yet there was an underlying component that was just Kenma. With his free hand, Kuroo pressed down onto Kenma’s hip to steady him, having expected that natural urge to thrust into Kuroo’s mouth. He applied a little bit of pressure at the base of Kenma’s cock, gaining a very responsive hiss in return as well as a few more dribbles of precum.

Kuroo took the tip into his mouth and let himself do what he did best. He teased the head, drawing slow circles at first before tonguing at the slit. Kenma writhed underneath him and dug his fingers into the couch cushions - all the while he managed to keep his voice to reticent whimpers.

But Kuroo was determined to make him sing.

He took Kenma further into his mouth, feeling the weight of him against his tongue, and purred as he heard a satisfying, "Fuck." His fingers dug into Kenma’s hip to keep him steady and not to thrust suddenly in the back of his throat. Tediously, Kuroo made thorough work of Kenma’s erection. He adjusted his jaw and opened his throat to accommodate for the dick occupying his mouth - thankfully, Kenma wasn’t the biggest he had taken, still dancing on the verge of comfortable.

Kenma’s hands had returned to Kuroo's hair, burying down to the roots, and in turn keep his head still for a moment. Kuroo remembered to breathe through his nose, keeping everything else relaxed, as he waited for Kenma to let him continue.

It was slight, but Kenma’s fingers loosened in his hair, telling Kuroo it was okay to lift his head. So he did. In one fluid motion, Kuroo wetly popped off his cock, already feeling his saliva running down his chin. He took in two deep breaths and on the second exhale sank back down onto Kenma’s length without pause. The sting of Kenma nearly ripping his hair out returned and caused Kuroo to moan around the dick pressed to the back of his throat.

" _Shit_ ," Kenma sucked air through his teeth. His fingers tightened in Kuroo's hair again, wanting to feel more of that vibration, "K-Kuroo...!"

Kuroo tried to smile around the length, another wave of heated pride hitting straight to his abandoned cock, but instead he mumbled an inaudible praise. There was resistance now at Kenma's pinned hips as he wanted to lose himself in the warmth of Kuroo's mouth. Kenma tossed his head from side to side, frustration now digging into Kuroo's scalp, and planted his heels firmly on either side of Kuroo.

There was an unbridled force inside of Kenma that was usually unlocked during intensive gaming sessions or back in the day when volleyball could capture Kenma's undivided attention, and now it seemed to be channeling differently. If that was the case, Kuroo was just going to have to let him have it.

Taking his hands off of Kenma's hips, he was aware of the choice he was making and knew he could handle anything Kenma needed. Kuroo desperately wanted to make Kenma feel good and break down that last wall between them. As soon as he was left unrestrained, Kenma's hips slammed up to meet Kuroo's face, stuttering at the impact.

Kuroo choked around the sudden intake but stayed put to meet Kenma's confused gaze. He didn't move his head and instead reached for Kenma's wrist, wordlessly begging him to continue. Carefully watching Kuroo, Kenma tested his hips upward - his eyes transfixed on the way his cock slid easily in and out of Kuroo's mouth. Once he found a rhythm, Kenma put his trust in him and let his body move on its own, thrusting wantonly and without resistance. 

Kuroo could feel the tremors of pleasure tear through Kenma, causing his thighs to tremble and his cock to twitch as he hit deep past his nonexistent gag reflex. He could even hear the way incoherent phrases started in the back of Kenma's throat and then stopped as soon as they reached his lips. Kuroo took in these new cues and made sure that all focus was put to memorizing and savoring the new information. 

"W-Wait," Kenma's fingers scraped against his skull, "I'm gonna…! Kur...T-Tetsurou!"

Kuroo didn't stop. 

His hand gripped Kenma’s thigh and felt the muscles strain under his touch, tensing as his hips stuttered out of rhythm. Kenma really was close - Kuroo could feel it - so he pushed down until he was able to nuzzle the patch of hair at the base of Kenma’s cock. His senses were quick to be consumed by the overwhelming, provocative scent that was _Kenma_ , making him moan around his shaft.

That did it because the next thing he knew, Kenma was cumming white-hot down his throat and screaming his name.

Kuroo had never been harder in his entire life.

As Kenma came down from his high, Kuroo gently pulled back, getting one last taste before propping himself up onto his hands and knees and hovering over him. He licked his lips, watching Kenma take in deep breaths and shiver from the aftershocks of his orgasm. Fuck, he looked gorgeous all florid and disheveled from squirming about with his hands now tiredly stretched above his head to leave him completely vulnerable.

He leaned down and lightly trailed kisses up Kenma’s body, causing him to stir from his blissed out reprieve. Kuroo smiled against his skin - tongue teasing at the sensitive divots of his ribs - which granted the attention he wanted. Kenma reached for his face and brought him up to leisurely kiss him, drinking in the way he licked into Kuroo’s mouth to taste what lingered of himself.

Pressure returned to Kuroo’s crotch, igniting every neuron in his body to his neglected cock that eagerly stirred in his jeans. He’d been so enraptured with Kenma and wanting him to feel good that he simply put himself off. 

It seemed that Kenma hadn’t forgotten.

Kuroo quickly pulled back, holding his breath as Kenma's foot teased his cock. Even through his remaining layers, the attention felt good. _Too good_. He sat back on the opposite side of the couch, heavily panting from the brief contact, and caught Kenma’s eyes. Gold had returned, but Kenma’s gaze was still glossed over with a mixed desire of interest.

Kenma carefully chased after him, pushing Kuroo against the armrest and sitting between his legs. He ran his hands over Kuroo’s denim thighs, raking his nails down the material and causing goosebumps to bud across Kuroo’s exposed skin. There was an overwhelming sense of _everything_. Kuroo was too aware of Kenma’s eyes and hands - even his breath - on him, causing his head to feel like static.

There was a thin layer of thrilled buzzing underneath his skin as Kenma leaned in and very lightly, very purposely pressed his lips to Kuroo’s neck. His hands stayed in place on the tops of Kuroo’s thigh and only his lips touched Kuroo’s oversensitive skin.

Groaning, Kuroo tilted his head back and felt the press of lips turn to grazing teeth against the underside of his jaw. Kenma made his way to Kuroo’s ear and spoke in a low rumble, “I want to touch you.”

Kuroo gasped, “Fuck…” His hips spasmed at the idea.

“What do _you_ want?” Kenma didn’t miss a beat, pulling his face away. He gripped Kuroo’s chin with his hand, locking eyes. Where Kuroo felt all heat and erratic overload, Kenma had regained his composure, observing even the most miniscule reaction. His thumb traced over Kuroo’s bottom lip, and Kuroo pliantly opened his mouth. “I could let you fuck me.”

Whining, Kuroo’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment. The idea of fucking Kenma had not been lost. In fact, that sounded like exactly what he wanted if the swirling heat in his gut was anything to go by.

“I know I’ve thought about it,” he continued, releasing Kuroo’s face and trailing his hand down to his collarbone, “and am curious if you’ll live up to the expectation.”

“K-Kenma…”

“Although, your mouth did feel pretty good. I could just blow you and return the gesture.”

Kuroo watched as Kenma’s hand moved lower and lower, resting on his stomach now. He was trying to kill him.

“Or,” Kenma bit his bottom lip as his eyes were trained on Kuroo’s waiting expression, “I could fuck you.”

His hips bucked up as he let out a long, needy moan, whimpering when his cock was only met with nothing but the constriction of his jeans. 

Kenma leaned in close once again, his mouth hovering just above Kuroo’s, and spoke so that their lips practically brushed together, “I’ve thought about that too, you know. You would look good all splayed out just like this,” using his other hand, Kenma spread Kuroo’s legs and added pressure against his inner thigh. "I would make thorough work opening you up on my fingers until you practically cum just from that."

Oh. _Fuck_. 

Kuroo groaned, tossing his head back once more. His hand went to the front of his jeans, fingers shakily trying to pop the first button, when Kenma was quick to grab his wrist and hold him there. "Fuck, Kenma, I-I -"

"What's the magic word?"

" _Please_ ," Kuroo begged, feeling a tear slip down his cheek, "Kenma, p-please…!"

Kenma pursed his lips, his hand staying firm around his wrist. "Please what? What do you want, Tetsurou?"

The way Kenma purred around his name was another shot straight to his dick. He whined again, desperate for him, and knew he couldn't hold back any longer.

"A-Anything! Everything," gasped Kuroo. "You! I w-want _you_ , Kenma, so please," he was nearly sobbing now, " _please_ touch me…"

Satisfied with Kuroo's answer, Kenma pulled his wrist away so that he could be the one to free Kuroo from his pants. Kuroo could hear the blood pounding in his ears and feel his heart batter against his ribs. As soon as his zipper came down, though, it was over. Light burst behind his eyes as he felt the tight knot snap in gut. He came hard and untouched for the most part - Kenma lightly stroking him through his underwear to ride out his orgasm.

Kuroo felt weightless for a good moment, blissfully taking in the new warmth that spread throughout him. He hadn't expected that to happen - more like he didn't know what would happen exactly. Kenma had definitely taken him by surprise and it was better than any fantasy he'd conjured up over the years.

"Tets...Kuroo?"

Kuroo peeked an eye open to acknowledge his name being called. Kenma blinked down at him and tilted his head to the side. "Mm?"

"Are you…?" Pink returned to Kenma's cheeks as he cleared his throat. 

A lethargic smile split across his face as he reached up and guided Kenma down to lay on his chest. Kuroo wrapped his arms around him and kissed the top of his head. "Where did you learn how to talk like that?"

"Anyone can say those things."

"Nuh-uh," protested Kuroo, "that was...something else."

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other on the couch, for awhile. The sound of slow, even breathing and the soothing embrace of one another serving as enough after what happened. Kuroo felt more than exhausted emotionally, however, felt nothing but content knowing everything was left out in the open.

Kenma pulled away first and lightly tapped his fingers against Kuroo's cheek. "Come on...we're both sweaty and sticky and tired."

"Mm, five more minutes~"

He scrunched his face up at that. "That's gross."

"Please?" Kuroo opened his eyes again, pushing his bottom lip out into a pout.

"Take a shower first and," Kenma looked away as he mumbled next, "then we can cuddle…"

Kuroo pushed himself up into a sitting position and left a lingering kiss against Kenma's lips. "Whatever you want, Kitten."

They didn't take long in the shower, simply scrubbing enough to be deemed hygienic, and shuffled to Kenma's room. Kuroo changed into spare clothes that he kept - having a drawer here just like back at home - and quickly climbed into bed. Kenma put on a fresh pair of boxers and one of Kuroo's many stolen hoodies before following after him. They got comfortable (it was easy after years of practiced naps beside one another) with Kuroo's back against the wall and Kenma curled inward against his chest.

Swiping a hand through Kenma's damp hair, Kuroo let himself melt into the mattress. He felt the soft breaths puff on his neck and the smaller but slender hand fist in his shirt. Kenma's leg slid easily between his and the security of finally fitting into each other took over. They were whole again.

With the weight of that in his heart, Kuroo gave in and let sleep claim the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were a few different drafts for this chapter, and I struggled on which one to put out >.> I ended up going with a combination of the drafts, and this is what resulted in the end~
> 
> Some of my KuroKen bias came out in this one for sure, but I hope y'all liked it as much as I had fun writing it! There's definitely more to come~（○゜ε＾○）
> 
> Also! You may have noticed now, but I have also updated with a projected end chapter count! I took count of my outline and roughly this is what I'm trying to accomplish. There are still some plot points to touch upon (as well as leaving a few loose ends for extended fics), and I can't believe we've gotten this far.
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone who reads this and leaves comments and/or kudos! Y'all keep me going, and I hope everyone enjoys ringing in the new year! 2020 is the year of Haikyuu once again! (｡♥‿♥｡)


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Because as much as Tsukishima let himself feel for Kuroo, he knew Kuroo would never return it in that same sense. He would never amount to Kozume._

It was getting late, or at least as late as Tadashi overheard Tobio complain about several times over. Technically, it was only a quarter past ten. But the setter had been adamantly announcing the time since nine, and it was getting to be too much. He clearly wasn’t focusing on the materials in front of him, which was the whole point of studying together out in the living room in the first place. Tadashi was jealous of Tsukki’s earlier escape, having made a beeline for his bedroom the first chance he got.

Apparently, though, he was not alone in finding Tobio’s ticking reminders annoying as Shoyou let his pencil drop in his textbook before spinning around on the floor to look up at his setter. Shoyou usually had the highest tolerance out of all of them when it came to Tobio’s tics, but it was clear that he was drawing his last straw.

“If it’s getting so late,” Shoyou jabbed a finger towards Tobio who was comfortably placed on the couch, “then maybe I should start heading back.”

Tadashi looked to Tobio who simply rolled his eyes in return.

“Don’t be stupid. It’s already getting too late. You should just stay here tonight.” Tobio waved a hand flippantly through the air.

Tadashi sighed beside his former vice-captain and shook his head. Tobio was never quite the subtle one of the group. It was exhausting to see that Shoyou hadn’t picked up on it, though, at this point.

Shoyou was already on his feet when he shook his head. “Nope! I’m not going to have a Kageyama-sized alarm clock going off every ten minutes.”

“Alarm clock?” Tobio cocked an eyebrow.

Tadashi had to stifle a laugh.

“Yeah, alarm clock,” Shoyou repeated. “Honestly, Kageyama, have you done any work since I came over?”

“I -”

“You have been on that same chapter for the past hour,” Tadashi chimed in, smirking as Tobio threw him a death glare at his interjection.

Shoyou gestured to Tadashi as he maintained eye contact with his current and usual pain-in-the-neck. He had always managed to stand his ground when it came to Tobio’s belligerent pestering. “See?”

Tobio opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it. His ears burned as a flush slowly made its way down his neck. He kept his eyes locked with Hinata’s, neither one daring to look away first. “Fine! Don’t take the offer!”

“I won’t!”

Still, no one moved. 

There was this electrical charge in the air that sent Tadashi’s hair raising on the back of his neck. It was always like this around these two. The littlest thing could set them off, and it had only gotten worse since high school.

Tadashi leaned back on the couch, sighing, and watched as Shoyou gathered his things. He was too tired to deal with whatever lover-non-lover squabble this was - they clearly needed to just sit down and have a conversation. Although, this was relatively tame in comparison to any of their usual spats.

As Shoyou went to the door to put on his shoes, Tadashi called out asking for Shoyou to text him when he reached his apartment. Little outbursts like these made him glad that Shoyou chose not to room with them. Finding a three person apartment was a little more difficult, but it saved a lot more headaches in the long run.

With Shoyou gone, Tadashi just glared at Tobio who had gone back to his work as if nothing ever happened. He thought about challenging Tobio’s childish behavior but decided against it, knowing nothing was going to change. It wasn’t worth it this time around. One day (he hoped) they would realize what all of this sexual tension meant...today was just not that day.

Tadashi proceeded to finish up the math problems he was in the middle of doing, enjoying the comfortable silence that had fallen throughout the apartment. He also began to think about Tsukki still locked away in his room and studying. Alone. Going from dorm life to apartment life had definitely been a big change. 

There were things that he missed like the soft click of keys from Tsukki’s computer and even the faint humming Tsukki would do whenever a particularly good song came on while he worked. He also missed the closeness - not that their current apartment was spacious - but there was something comforting in simply looking over and seeing the other person right there. Sighing, he tried to push those thoughts away as he resumed his work. Tadashi had to take advantage of the quiet before Tobio asked him for help.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it definitely was enough to prompt a study break. Tadashi also wanted to take that opportunity to check on Tsukki, so he asked if Tobio needed anything before heading to their small kitchen by the entrance. He started up the coffee pot, knowing he was going to need a little more fuel, and went to retrieve one of Tobio’s milk boxes from the fridge.

On his way back from the living room, there was a knock at their front door, prompting him to glance at his phone and check the time:

[2 3 : 2 3]

Who in the world -

“Shoyou?” Tadashi blinked as he answered the door, surprised to see him back. “I thought you were going home?” He moved aside to let him inside the apartment, watching as Shoyou kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag down at the front door.

“Dumbass! Told you to just stay over,” Tobio called from the couch.

And there went that comfortable silence.

Shoyou just made a face in retaliation to Tobio’s comment before looking at Tadashi and scratching his cheek. “I, uh, can’t be home tonight…”

It wasn’t the first time Shoyou had asked to spend the night.

Tadashi walked back into the living room with Hinata, and once he took a seat beside Tobio , he just had to ask, “Is it Bokuto-san?”

Shoyou shook his head and cleared his throat. “Actually...it’s Kuroo. He’s staying the night.”

“Huh? That’s it?” Tobio peered over his workbook and raised an eyebrow, having followed the conversation. “Hasn’t he stayed over before?”

“Well, yeah, but this...seemed like a big deal. Kenma asked me to go,” Shoyou told him.

“So?”

Tadashi blinked. That was a first. From what he knew about him, Kozume-san wasn’t the one to ask for the apartment to himself let alone for him _and_ Kuroo privately. That definitely was...a big deal - to keep it in Shoyou’s words.

“ _So_ ,” Shoyou emphasized his point, “I did. He and Kuroo are finally going to talk...I think. I’m not going to be in the way.”

“You live there too, dumbass,” Tobio rolled his eyes. “You could have just stayed.”

There was a click from one of the bedroom doors opening, though neither tweedle-dee nor tweedle-dum noticed thanks to their squabbling back and forth. Tadashi, however, caught a glimpse of their own resident shut-in walking towards the kitchen and got up to follow after him.

So Kozume-san had asked for the apartment alone. Kuroo was the one expected over. Tadashi was not aware of the full extent of their current situation, but he could imagine what was happening. He’d had a front row seat to all of Tsukki’s escapades last year, which may have prompted some snooping on his part.

Tsukki had his back toward Tadashi as he poked his head into the fridge. They were all hitting that break in the night where they needed some type of motivation. Remembering the coffee he had put on, Tadashi went over to their cabinet, grabbed his favorite mug, and proceeded to pour himself as much as it would hold. If Tsukki had noticed his presence, he didn’t show it and instead continued to rummage through the leftover takeout containers.

After sniffing a few different options, Tsukki took one of the containers and utensils from the drawer before turning around. He cocked an eyebrow in Tadashi’s direction - his way of asking about Shoyou’s status around this time of night.

“He’s staying over,” was Tadashi’s simple answer before he took a sip of his coffee, letting the bitter, lukewarm taste hit the back of his throat.

“Hn,” replied Tsukki and that was that. He walked right by Tadashi with his snack and headed back to his bedroom to lock himself away again.

Rolling his eyes, Tadashi put his mug down on the counter and sighed. Tsukki didn’t care if Shoyou stayed over or not, but some part of him knew he had to explain it anyways because...things were going to change. He could feel it, and he would rather lay down the foundation for all of that now. After everything that Tsukki had been through, Tadashi knew what he had to do.

Kei needed closure.

So Tadashi pushed himself off from the counter and headed to Tsukki’s room, hearing muffled bickering still coming from the living room. He knocked on the bedroom door before poking his head inside.

Tsukki had already returned to his desk where his desktop had a document open and there were a few textbooks splayed over one another. A low hum of music came from the speakers, though the words were made indistinguishable by the quieted volume. And there was Tsukki, leaning back in his chair and picking through his chosen fried rice absentmindedly.

“Can I help you?” Tsukki didn’t turn around to address him.

Tadashi stepped into the room and sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “We need the extra futon. You know...because Shoyou is staying over.”

“So you said.”

“Yeah, well, just trying to keep everyone in the loop,” he chuckled awkwardly. “It was just strange to have him leave and then come right back, you know? Not sure if you knew that…”

Tsukki turned his head to finally look at him, giving a blank stare in return. This was another one of his silent quirks. He clearly wanted to know where Tadashi was going with this.

Might as well just say it.

Tadashi straightened up a little, setting himself right before saying, “Kozume-san asked him to leave because Kuroo was coming over.”

If he was expecting Tsukki to outwardly react to that, he would have been disappointed. Tsukki’s expression remained flat and unmoving - the complete opposite to what anyone would probably think. Maybe he didn’t see the situation the same way he did? Or maybe Tsukki didn’t hear him? Would have been hard to have missed it though…

After a minute of staring at one another, Tsukki was the one to raise an eyebrow and speak, “And?”

“And?” Tadashi repeated dumbly. “And what?”

“And that’s it? Wouldn’t be the first time he’s stayed over. It especially doesn’t warrant why Hinata needs the futon either.” Tsukki pointed out. “He’ll probably end up on the couch or in Kageyama’s bed.”

He opened his mouth, ready to argue the point, but there really wasn’t anything he could say except, “Yeah, but we should still give him the choice…?” 

Tsukki just rolled his eyes at the weak rebuttal. “Whatever,” clicking his tongue he stood from his desk and walked over to his closet. He had been gifted with the most spacious closet of the whole apartment, and therefore, was responsible for holding onto all kinds of things for the three of them.

Once Tsukki handed over the rolled futon, Tadashi knew he was out of excuses for sticking around. He wanted to make sure that his best friend was alright, but as usual, Tsukki probably just bottled that up too. They were going to talk about it - Tadashi was determined about that - but maybe this was enough for now. 

When he turned to leave, however, he was sure he heard a soft, “Thank you,” from Tsukki’s desk. He wasn’t sure what to make of it or even if it was for him at all, but Tadashi felt a sense of relief drop from his shoulders. Tension-free, he left the room.

 

Tsukishima didn’t wait for Yamaguchi to leave before sitting back down at his desk, sighing a quiet “Thank you” for his friend to hear. He had heard the argument in the living room from earlier and even Hinata’s return (his bedroom conveniently closest to the entrance), and when Yamaguchi told him that Kuroo was staying over Kozume’s for the night, he had to school his features into staying neutral. Unimpressed.

But that wasn’t what he felt at all.

He had felt something...snap and was left plummeting into the inevitable. Maybe it was because he’d accepted this a while ago, but there was a moment where he felt cold - a mild sense of shock, swiping under his feet - and he temporarily forgot how to breathe. Tsukki was aware of what heartbreak was and knew that this wasn’t it, not by a longshot. No, this was a different hollow feeling. 

Acceptance.

That was it.

Tsukishima had told himself he had accepted his defeat the day he ended things with Kuroo. The signs had been blatant from the beginning (a futile battle when considering who his opponent was), but he had chosen to ignore it all. Stupid really. But now it was finally over.

It was all kinds of relieving in a way. Despite being done with Kuroo for the past couple of months, there had always been this looming hope - no, that was too strong and not quite...right. _Dread_. As much as he could admit to having loved Kuroo, he didn’t want to get back together. He _couldn’t_ get back together. And his dread had been confirmed the night Kuroo called him out to that empty park - that little light of hope forcing him out against all the logic screaming at him to stay out of it. 

But love didn’t make sense and was an awful curse.

Because as much as Tsukishima let himself feel for Kuroo, he knew Kuroo would never return it in that same sense. He would never amount to Kozume.

Tsukishima stared at his computer screen, watching the cursor blink on and off as it waited for him to continue. It was probably a good minute or two before he finally just leaned back in his chair and sighed deeply. He looked up at his ceiling, closed his eyes, and ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s over,” he said to no one, “You finally woke up.”

 

* * *

 

The early morning calm was fragile, teetering between the balance of dreams and reality. Often than not, it seemed like a time removed from everything else.

Kenma was aware of his consciousness trying to come to life, but his body protested and wanted nothing to do with it. He curled into the warmth pressed up against him, burying his face in Kuroo’s chest. His muscles clenched as he refrained from stretching out and giving into the need to wake up, mindful of Kuroo adjusting next to him and holding him a little tighter.

This was nice. Sharing a bed with Kuroo had always been comforting, and Kenma had made sure to utilize this closeness in the past - taking in how Kuroo always seemed to smell like sandalwood and the slightest hint of lingering disinfectant (whether that was from the labs or the gym was anybody’s guess) or the way his body would instinctively curl around Kenma’s. He always felt the need to cling onto the chance to nap together and suppress whatever imaginative thoughts wanted to pop up, but now, he could savor this time a bit more dearly. There were no more what-ifs separating his curiosity.

If he wanted to, Kenma could easily test out what crossed his mind.

He slowly peeked his eyes open, fluttering as he adjusted to the darkness of the room. Kenma’s fingers twisted in the loose shirt Kuroo wore before his eyes met his sleeping face. He had observantly watched Kuroo sleep before - many times - and had seen the variety of habits throughout the years. Kenma had seen Kuroo’s restless thrashing and heard the raucous snoring of ugly sleep and witnessed the utter stillness of peaceful sleep. Whenever he was this close up, Kenma wanted to just reach out and touch him, though always stopping himself in the end.

Until now.

Kenma scooted up on his mattress to be face-to-face with Kuroo. He noted the soft, steady breathing and the worry-free planes of Kuroo’s face. Everything about him was relaxed and soft while he slept. It was just so tempting.

Reaching out, he lightly touched Kuroo’s cheek. He was warm beneath his fingers and a little more stubbly than Kenma remembered. Tracing the line of Kuroo’s jaw, Kenma followed the straight cut down to his chin. His thumb pressed against Kuroo’s bottom lip just as Kuroo let out a pleasant sigh. Looking at his face, Kenma saw a slight shift in expression - his brows pulling together and his nose wrinkling at the small disturbance, piquing another curious idea.

Trailing his hand down, he let his fingertips graze along the muscles in Kuroo’s neck. Kenma felt his pulse stutter before watching his face scrunch further. He brought a hand down the length of Kuroo’s chest, mapping out the expanse of muscle through his t-shirt before resting his hand comfortably on his exposed hip. 

Kuroo groaned.

Kenma smirked.

Before he could get a chance to keep teasing, a loud, blaring alarm went off from the nightstand. He was caught completely by surprise (it just _couldn’t_ have been time for him to wake for class yet), retreating his hands to cover his ears. With a startled gasp, Kuroo’s eyes flew open, and he quickly reached over Kenma to dismiss the horrendous notification from his phone.

Silence once again returned, and Kenma was able to relax back against the mattress, looking up at Kuroo who was now sitting upright. Kuroo rubbed at his eyes, yawning, and arched his back to stretch out all the knots and kinks from sleep. Half awake, he finally took notice of Kenma staring up at him, a sly smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Kuroo twisted himself to cage Kenma underneath him, his body positioned carefully overtop of him. Pressing their foreheads together, Kenma closed his eyes as he brought a hand up to caress Kuroo’s cheek once again. He could feel Kuroo’s smile stretch across his face - a genuine smile too, nothing forced or concealing or devious, just as bright and unguarded as Kenma knew him to be when they were alone together.

The kiss that came next was sweet and slow, nothing more than lips at first - a gentle wakeup call unlike the phone alarm a minute ago. However, with Kuroo now awake, Kenma couldn’t find it in himself to hold back. He caught Kuroo’s bottom lip between his teeth and slid his hand to the nape of his neck, enjoying the way Kuroo followed after the lightest touch.

For years, Kenma had imagined what it would have been like to kiss Kuroo. His mind had run wild with thoughts ranging from heated, domineering passion to playful teasing that concealed any true motives. However, Kenma had noticed the truth behind Kuroo’s kisses between last night and now - his kisses reciprocated caution and compassion. His lips moved like he was playing in a set, driven by the game but executed by reading his opponent, his body seeming to know what to do while anticipating Kenma’s next move. Kuroo matched his pacing with practiced ease as if they had done this time and time again.

A few more traded kisses passed before Kenma pulled away, sucking in air to fill his deprived lungs. He caught Kuroo’s eyes first, reflecting like embers in a fire just waiting to be stoked back to life, and then followed the subtle swipe of pink as his tongue toyed with a pointed canine.

Kuroo’s voice came out gravelly, still rough from sleep, “Good morning, Kitten.”

“Hn,” Kenma nodded, stroking the untamed hairs at Kuroo’s neck, “morning.”

Even in the dark, Kuroo’s smile was visible. He dropped a bit of his weight down onto him, nothing unmanageable or uncomfortable - actually, the press of Kuroo’s body against his felt reassuring and only churned the warmth in his stomach. Kenma loosely wrapped his arms around his shoulders, letting his one hand comb through the ratted mess that was Kuroo’s perpetual bedhead.

“We should do this every morning,” suggested Kuroo lowly, his voice rumbling against Kenma’s chest and doing wonders to stir every fiber of his being.

Kenma could feel his own face heat up now, though he was sure his expression remained neutral, thinking about waking up pressed up against Kuroo’s chest. He certainly slept easier. But Kenma wasn’t known for making anything easier, especially when it came to Kuroo.

“You take up too much space.”

“Then I’ll just lay on top of you.”

“You’re heavy.”

“I’ll just lose weight.”

“You snore.”

“I do not,” Kuroo gasped, pulling his head back slightly aghast. 

Kenma cocked an eyebrow.

“Fine, then just wear earplugs,” he threw back at him. 

Kenma made a face at that, furrowing his brows and crinkling his nose. Earplugs sounded uncomfortable to sleep with. There was a reason he preferred wearing headphones.

“Besides,” Kuroo’s voice dropped to a quiet purr as he nosed just beneath Kenma’s jaw, “I can wake you up like this.”

His lips found purchase at the sensitive spanse of skin just below Kenma’s ear, sucking at the spot to drive Kenma crazy, surging up against him suddenly. The hand in Kuroo’s hair tightened, tugging at his scalp and encouraging him further, as his ministrations continued. His neck felt hot and wet and should have made Kenma uncomfortable all over, but he was far from that.

With each careful kiss or playful nip against his neck, Kenma melted further and further into the mattress. He could hear his own breathing coming out in quick puffs, gasping as if he had just played a few sets on his own, and hummed as Kuroo sweeping open-mouthed kisses down his throat, grazing teeth and tongue wherever skin was exposed.

Kenma had built up years of experience when it came to Kuroo’s affections to the point where he could easily hide how simple hand holding into nothing more than an automatic response or how napping together was now expected with fingers carding through Kenma’s hair. He accepted the pet names long ago and any flirtatious teasing as a part of their banter - a customized Kuroo immune system to prevent health complications - but never, not once, did Kenma prepare for what it would feel like to actually be devoured by this type of unyielding attention.

He should have felt overwhelmed, and in a sense, he did because everything definitely was becoming _too much_ too fast - faster than he could process. However, it was also _not enough_. Kenma wanted everything - the searing kisses, electrifying touches, and burnt out voices. He wanted to fall asleep with the taste of satisfaction on his lips and wake up with the sense of belonging in his arms. Most importantly, though, he had wanted all of this with no one else but Kuroo.

“Tetsurou,” Kenma moaned and felt an immediate shudder overtop of him.

“Fuck, Kenma,” hissed Kuroo, pulling his head back to meet his eyes again.

Kenma gave a tiny smirk. So he hadn’t imagined that reaction last night. That was good to know. He quirked an eyebrow at him, “What’s wrong, Tetsurou?”

Kuroo whined in the back of his throat and dropped his head to Kenma’s shoulder. 

“Cat got your tongue, Tetsurou?”

“I swear to God, Kenma,” his voice hitched with another visceral shiver.

Kenma teasingly poked Kuroo’s cheek to catch his eyes again. “I didn’t know your name was such a turn on,” he murmured, especially considering the fact that Keiji and Tooru both frequently used Kuroo’s name casually.

Kuroo shook his head, pressing his face into Kenma’s chest and willing himself back from the edge. “Me neither,” he admitted.

“What else turns you on?” 

Kuroo sprung his head up at that and slowly blinked, rendering him momentarily speechless as he turned Kenma’s words over in his head. Catching Kuroo by surprise was always fun, but it was never long lasting. His face quickly softened as a smirk slyly slid into familiar territory. “Why do you wanna know when we have all morning to figure it out?”

Rolling his eyes, Kenma should have expected something cheesy like that, and yet he fell right for it. “We can’t, Kuroo. We have class,” he reminded him.

Scoffing, Kuroo waved a hand in dismissal, “ _You_ might have class, but I don’t.”

That was true. Kenma unfortunately had one class on Fridays, thankfully starting at noon, but it wasn’t anything too challenging. He often multitasked during the lecture to get work done for other classes and treated it more like a designated study hall for all that it was worth in difficulty. 

“Wait,” Kenma said slowly as something clicked into place just now, “today is Friday.”

“Mhm,” Kuroo nodded before resting his chin on top of Kenma’s chest.

“Kuroo, if today is Friday and you don’t have classes, then why did your alarm go off?”

“Huh? My a-”

A blaring trumpet sound droned on in a melody reminiscent as the height of “The Imperial March” from _Star Wars_ , cutting Kuroo off and once again erupting sound into the settled comfort of the room. 

“Shit!” Kuroo sat back up again, taking the blankets with him this time and causing Kenma to shiver at the loss of body heat. He scrambled to grab his phone off the nightstand, swiping to answer it. “Don’t say a word,” he immediately told Tooru on the other end.

Now it made sense. The only other question that remained was how long Kuroo was going to be away this weekend.

“Listen, Shittyka - I mean, best roommate of all time,” Kuroo cleared his throat and pulled his phone away from his face to check the time, “would you mind grabbing my bag for me? I have my gear packed, I just...won’t have time to hit the apartment.”

Kenma reached around Kuroo and grabbed his comforter, quickly balling himself up into whatever lingering warmth he could get as he listened to the conversation.

“Really?” Kuroo shook his head, sounding exasperated. “Now’s not the time, Tooru.”

Kenma watched as Kuroo shuffled off the bed, impressively not falling flat on his face with his phone still pressed to his ear. He went straight to his reserved dresser drawer, crouching down, and started to rifle through to find something that would fit.

“I’ll just call Bo,” Kuroo threatened flippantly, pulling out a pair of joggers and a worn gray sweatshirt.

As he tried to pull out an outfit, Kenma decided that the darkness did not help in that endeavor in the least, so he reached over and turned on the bedside lamp.

All of the clothes in that drawer had belonged to Kuroo at some point and were slowly collected from leftover visits and forgotten stays. Not even Kenma knew exactly what was what, although he did keep his favorite Kuroo hoodies stashed in there, prolonging their useful life expectancies.

Tooru must have whined loud enough on the other end because his voice echoed out of Kuroo’s phone and ended in a petulant _-chan_. Kuroo’s shoulders stiffened before a subtle shiver made its way down his spine. “Please,” Kuroo’s voice sounded dry, “don’t call me that right now.” He leaned back on the balls of his feet to plop down on the floor, running a hand through his hair and continuing, “Just...grab my stuff for me? I’ll meet you on the bus.”

With a begrudging “thanks,” Kuroo hung up the call and fell back onto the floor to look up at the ceiling.

“You have a game today,” stated Kenma after about a minute of watching Kuroo recollect his thoughts. It wasn’t a question because he knew by now what the fall volleyball season entailed.

Kuroo nodded, swiping a hand over his face. “It’s a tournament,” he confirmed and sounded...disappointed for the first time about volleyball since the start of their friendship. “I’ll be gone until Monday...if we do well.”

“You’ll do well.”

From the floor, Kuroo looked up at Kenma and just blinked. They weren’t touching, not even close to breathing the same air, and yet Kenma still felt his chest constrict and his body shudder as if physically shocked. He had built up years’ worth of defenses to restrain these involuntary reactions and in less than twelve hours, everything was gone. 

Just one look and Kenma was ready to combust on the spot.

Kuroo broke out into a shit-eating grin before he stood up and chuckled, going back to gather the few clothes he was going to need this weekend. He asked to borrow a backpack to use for now, grabbing it from the wardrobe in the corner of the room. 

Kenma didn’t bother to look away as Kuroo got changed, even poking a finger out of his blanket and saying, “The red one,” indicating the red hoodie by the backpack. Kuroo blinked and looked at the hoodie before shrugging and switching out the clothes, completely unaware of Kenma’s plot to steal it back once he returned.

Once packed, Kuroo quickly dipped out of the room to the bathroom across the hall. Kenma heard running water from the sink before Kuroo popped back in with a toothbrush in his mouth. 

“So I had a really good time!” He tried to say as clearly as he could with a mouth full of toothpaste.

Kenma just blinked at him.

“Not that I didn’t think I would!” Kuroo quickly added with a new set of nerves clearly buzzing in his system. Pre-game jitters? Doubtful. He was going to make a fool of himself. “It was great! I mean, _you_ were great and -”

“Kuroo.”

“- it’s not like I’ve been imagining it or anything. Definitely not! That would be too perverted, right? I mean, even Oikawa said it -”

“Kuroo.”

“- was weird! _Oikawa_ of all people who should have at least sympathized with me. I felt betrayed, you can imagine,” Kuroo ranted even as he crossed the hall into the bathroom to spit out the built up toothpaste. When he returned, he was still babbling nonsense, most definitely everything sinking in now, “And after last night, I don’t think my imagination could even compare anymore. I’m going to have to rethink _everything_ now. Wait, that sounds wrong, right?”

“Kuroo.”

“No, nevermind, don’t answer that,” Kuroo was pacing the room now, shaking out his hair with his one hand while the other remained clamped on the back of his neck. “What I’m trying to say is -”

“Tetsurou,” sighed Kenma, sitting up now so that his blanket fell off his shoulders and only covered his lap.

Kuroo froze mid-rhythm and quickly turned his head to look back at him. That was definitely a useful cheat code.

Kenma motioned for Kuroo to approach the bed, and once he was within distance, he reached up to grab Kuroo’s face with both hands, bringing him down to his level. He could feel the tension roll off his best friend’s shoulders as they locked eyes - Kuroo’s were frantic and questioning as he tried to focus. Kenma simply kept his own gaze steady as he rubbed gentle circles against Kuroo’s cheeks.

After a moment and a few deep breaths, Kuroo relaxed to Kenma’s touch and closed his eyes. He brought his hand to place over one of Kenma’s and leaned into his palm. “I have to go,” he sighed.

Oh, he was well aware of that fact.

“Kenma,” when Kuroo reopened his eyes, they were soft and much calmer than before, having been soothed by the soft caresses, “I love you.”

He took in a deep breath at that, swearing he could hear a _ping_ to indicate the unlocked achievement he had been trying for all this time. “I know,” he answered softly.

And then they were kissing. It was subdued and careful - an echoed reminder of an admitted confession. Kenma could easily lose himself in these tender kisses and knew he was tempted to do just about anything to keep him there, but that was too selfish too soon.

Kuroo was the stronger person, apparently, because he pulled away first. He took out his phone and huffed at the notifications on his screen, moving to grab his temporary backpack and head out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Once the door was closed, Kenma flopped back down on the mattress, feeling utterly drained and overwhelmed and oddly light. A small part of him was glad that Kuroo would be gone for a few days so that Kenma could just process everything and -

“Wait a second,” Kuroo’s voice pierced through the door as it opened, popping his head back into the room and blinking, “did you...did you just Han Solo me?”

Before Kenma died of a heart attack and onset embarrassment, he tossed one of his pillows at his door, hoping to get Kuroo’s face but miscalculated the weight and missed completely.

Kuroo yelped at the pillow’s incoming attack but quickly cackled as it missed him, taking the hint to finally leave.

Kenma heard not only the click of his bedroom door but could even hear the front entrance closing as well. _Now_ , he was alone. His exhaustion was eager to return, dragging him back down into the bed and settling in place for the rest of the morning, even lulling him back to sleep for a period of time. The next thing he knew his own alarm was finally going off an hour before class was expected to start.

As he turned over to hit snooze, and give himself an extra ten minutes, Kenma noticed a few new text messages. Keiji and Tooru were to be expected, but a small part of him was happy to see Morisuke reach out as well. The only message he opened up, however, was from Shoyou.

 

**From Shoyou:**  
 _I don’t have practice til later tonight  
Can I come home after class???_  
[09:12]

 

Kenma smiled at that. He really didn’t deserve Shoyou sometimes.

 

**To Shoyou:**  
 _Yes, you can._  
[11:06]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! The new year really came crashing down >.>
> 
> Anyways~ I thought I'd start the new year with some fluff and finally give in to some of that promised KuroKen. We have an estimated 10 more chapters, and I'm pretty excited to share them with you!
> 
> Also, while I may have been suffering a bit of writers block with this fic, I've gotten some inspiration to outline and plot a couple of prequel fics to make this into a series~ I'll be writing up KuroTsuki's history to follow up after this fic as well as small fic for BokuAka (how they got together) and Oikawa's first year here (how he and Kuroo became roommates, and his relationship with Iwa). I have ideas swimming around and am trying to also keep things in perspective with the ongoing canon chapters (though obviously there are some differences XD). But obviously this fic takes priority! We're in the home stretch~
> 
> Thank you again for all the kudos and comments!! Whenever I have writer's block I go back and read them for encouragement ;w;


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